


Begin Again

by RogueWitch



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Awesome Darcy Lewis, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kid Darcy Lewis, Kid Fic, Kid Loki, M/M, On Hiatus, Slight crack fic with feels, Smaug the Toaster Dragon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-10-30 02:50:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10867500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueWitch/pseuds/RogueWitch
Summary: Clint and Bucky become the reluctant babysitters of Darcy and Loki after an apparent science experiment gone bad.  Nothing can be easy with the Mischief twins running the tower.





	1. A is for: Aww Kids, No

**Author's Note:**

> I just realized that I neglected to thank my amazing beta, ktravierso, so I am amending that mistake by doing so now! Thank you!

Begin Again

Chapter 1: A is for: Aww Kids, No

Sun streamed through the obnoxiously tall windows of the common room, infecting every square inch of the expansive space with bright, cheery light. Loki rubbed at his eyes with the back of one hand as he shuffled slowly to the kitchen area in search of Midgard’s most devious secret, caffeine. 

He pulled an extra large mug down from the cabinet over the coffee maker and took two more shuffling steps to the prone form laying half over the white marble counter, her messy curls spilled over her folded arms, as she groaned tiredly. He gently swept her hair off to one side and dropped his six foot four inch form over her petite one, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling his nose into the back of her neck. Her only response was a muffled grunt and a small sigh.

“My dear,” his voice rumbled with sleep, deep and gravely, the rich vanilla scent of her skin surrounding him. “Is there a reason you are sleeping on the kitchen counter?” Her body was warm and pliant with sleep as he molded himself to her; slow even breath filling her chest and rhythmically raising him up and down as he surrendered his weight to her.

“No coffee,” came the muffled reply.

“And you decided to simply give up here,” he tightened his hold around her waist, the strip of exposed skin above her cotton sleep shirts warming his perpetually cold fingers. “Instead of coming back to bed?”

“Need coffee,” Darcy mumbles into her arms, rubbing her face back and forth over her folded forearms, her hair tickling Loki's cheeks. “Jane called… must science... coffee first.”

“And why is there no coffee, darling?” Loki kissed the bare spot right below her right ear, earning him a rumbling purr from the woman trapped beneath him.

“Stinky Barton,” she grumbled, then sighed, before going still again, and her breathing evening out. Loki waited patiently to see if she'd continue, content to simply curl around her warmth as he waited, only slightly worried she'd fallen asleep. “Took pot… blame Bucky.”

“I would ask why,” he smiled into the back of her neck. The only other occupants of the Tower were the Archer, who was recovering from an injury sustained during a mission, and the Captain's dear friend, who was reluctant to join the Avengers on their often misadventures. “But instead, why don't we venture down to Stark's lab, where the Keurig lives.”

“Too far,” his human pillow groaned long and low, it was a satisfying sound when he managed to coax it out of her in the privacy of their bedroom; not so in the too bright morning light, as she struggled to function without her precious caffeine. “Need coffee.”

“I believe between the two of us, we just might be able to manage,” Loki kissed along the side of her neck, much more satisfied with the groan his ministrations elicited, biting gently at the join of her shoulder.

Darcy turned her head to capture his lips with the corner of hers, a small ghost of a sleepy smile playing over her face. She pushed gently up, his not insignificant weight holding her down on the marble counter top. “Fuck me,” she huffed out, quickly abandoning her efforts, letting her arms drop back down, burying her head again, hair covering her face.

“Not until after coffee,” he nipped at her ear and levered himself up, pulling her with him. “It is simply not as satisfying when you are unconscious.” While Darcy was a passionate and playful lover in the evening hours, she was a mess of pointy elbows in the early hours. Loki had learned this the hard way the morning after their first night together, earning a hard blow to his face and a knee to the groin when he attempted to rouse her. He had attempted to approach the morning beast that was his loving girlfriend in a more circumventive manor since.

She let her weight fall back against his chest. “I hate you,” she groaned, her hair spilling across his chest in messy knots, her body held up nearly entirely by his arms around her waist, his cool skin feeling amazing against her natural heat.

“I dare say you do not,” it still surprised him how ridiculously adorable she was first thing in the morning, pointy elbows notwithstanding.

“Need coffee,” Darcy squinted up at him with one eye.

“Yes dear,” he easily maneuvered her around and lifted her up into his arms. “Up we go,” Loki coaxed her legs up to wrap around his waist as he supported her with his arms under her adorably round bottom, while she glommed onto him like a koala bear.

“You know,” she rubbed her face into the side of his neck. “It's totally all your fault I'm so tired.”

“I caused your caffeine dependence?” he asked cheekily. “I seem to recall that being a fault you came with.”

“Your logic is not appreciated,” Darcy mumbled, her lips soft on his neck.

“Yes, dear,” he put his hand on the palm scanner outside Tony's lab, opening the sliding glass door. He stood five steps into the lab when a blinking light caught his attention. “I was under the impression that Tony shut everything down before he left.”

Darcy didn't get a chance to reply a blinding blue light filled the lab, knocking Loki off his feet, Darcy dropping hard onto him before they both lost consciousness.

*****  
Bucky stood in the doorway of Tony’s lab, a place he tried never to find himself, looking down at two children who obviously did not belong in the billionaire’s Tower, much less his lab. The little girl’s face was a mess of blood that spilled down from her split lip and over the neck of her overly large t-shirt. Her face was tear streaked, and the boy held her protectively in his lap, his right hand in both of her hands, fingers curled around his palm as she sucked on his thumb.

“Jarvis, is this some kind of joke?” he growled up at the hidden speakers in the ceiling. The AI had called him from the gym about an incident in the lab involving Darcy and Loki, neither of whom seemed to be present.  
“I assure you, Sergeant Barnes,” the British voice that rolled down from the speakers, to Bucky’s ear, always sounded like it was mocking him. “I have attempted no joke, there was a disturbance in the lab, and the vital signs of both Loki of Asgard and Darcy Lewis have changed significantly.”

“You running video in this lab, cause I don’t see either of them,” Bucky kept his eye on the kids, neither of whom seemed to be paying him any attention. The boy kept whispering quietly to the girl, though Bucky didn’t recognize what language he was speaking, and petting her hair, as she continued to suck on his thumb. “Just two kids. How’d the rug rats get in here, anyhow?”

“I believe you are mistaken, Sergeant Barnes,” the AI answered. “There are only three life signs inside the lab, and one down the hall belonging to Agent Barton. And as you are aware, Sir does not permit any filming in the lab when he is not present.”

“What the fuck,” Clint ducked around Bucky and stood stock still.

“Language, Hawk,” his companion growled low. “There are kids present.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” the archer rubbed a hand down his face and shook his head. “That’s what made me swear, asshole.”

“Jarvis, are you saying what I think you are saying?” Bucky took a long slow breath, and looked again at the kids. The girl had riotous brown curls, and big blue eyes, her little fingers clutched with white knuckles to her companion’s hand, her skin would have been considered pale if it hadn’t had the boys to compare to. The boy had shoulder length black hair; the tangled loose curls making his sharp features stand out. He had green eyes, and long fingers, and Bucky figured if he was standing he would definitely be tall for his age. His skin was so pale it almost looked translucent, and he had a soft look on his face that the Soldier had only seen Loki use when he was looking at Darcy. “That can’t be Loki.”

“Yeah, but Jarvis said they were in here,” Clint scratched at the back of his neck. “And I’ve seen pictures of little Darcy, and that my friend, is her.”

“Mr. Hawkeye,” the little girl pulled her companion’s thumb from her mouth with a little pop, the front right tooth missing as she bit lightly at her bottom lip. “Mr. Tony’s lab went all blue, and Loki dropped me,” she picked at the shirt that bigger Darcy had obviously been wearing, now several magnitudes of size too large from the very petite little girl. “And I busted my mouth,” big tears rolled down her face as she blinked owlishly at him. “I want my mommy, Mr. Hawkeye.” Loki’s thumb disappeared back into her mouth, fresh blood staining his white skin red. Loki said nothing, but ducked his head down over her brown curls and gently kissed the top of her head, continuing to whisper words into her hair.

“Well, shit,” Bucky leaned back against one of the work benches and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Language, Buck,” Clint’s lip twitched in an aborted smile.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Bucky threw his arms up and growled at his friend. “What the hell are we supposed to do now?”

“Darcy’s hungry,” Loki’s soft voice came from where he’d tucked himself into her hair. “We came down for breakfast, because there wasn’t any in the common room,” his green eyes blinked slowly at Clint. “And she needs a bath and new clothes.”

“Right,” Clint pushed himself into action, helping Darcy and Loki up off the floor. He offered to take Darcy from the young boy, but Darcy wouldn’t let go of him. “Let’s get you both cleaned up, and get some food in you, we’ll figure out the rest from there.”

“I’m calling Steve,” Bucky grumbled and stalked out of the room.

“Mr. Bucky doesn’t like me much,” Darcy whispered quietly to Clint. “He thinks I’m too loud and I make jokes he doesn’t like.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you just remind him of his little sister,” Clint crouched down in front of the little girl, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “And he’s just grumpy cause he’s hungry.”

“You don’t have to be nice for him, Mr. Hawkeye,” the girl ducked her head, still holding tight to Loki’s hand. “Mr. Bucky told me that I don’t act like a dame should.”

“Well, Bucky’s stinky sometimes,” Clint shrugged. “Don’t take what the old grump says to heart.”

“I’m sorry I got all messy,” she told him, picking again at her shirt, the neckline slipping over one of her shoulders, the whole thing falling nearly past the tops of her bare feet.

“Not your fault, little one,” he offered her a hand again, and this time she took it, pushing Loki’s thumb back in her mouth. “You gonna tell me why you’re not sucking on your own thumb?”

“Loki’s is cold,” Darcy shrugged. “And he said it’s okay.”

“Anything you need, darling,” Loki told her, holding her against his chest with his free hand. Loki might be small again and couldn’t really remember much about being big, but he hadn’t forgotten the lessons he’d learned at his mother’s knee. Girls were always treated with respect, Darcy above all the rest. He wasn’t sure why she was more important, she just was.

“My mommy isn’t here, is she,” she looked up at Clint, who slowly shook his head.

“No, sweetheart,” he squeezed her hands softly. “But Bucky and I, we’re gonna take real good care of you until we can figure out what happened.” He pushed the button for the elevator and let out a long breath. 

What the hell where two assassins going to do with two kids, one of which knew magic, or might know magic. Clint looked down at both kids. Darcy looked about five years old, but he had no way to judge how old Loki was; dude was over a thousand, and didn’t look a day of thirty. He shook his head, he was going with five, five was a safe number and didn’t make his head hurt. “So, pancakes?” Both kids smiled up at him, Darcy’s missing tooth much more evident. “Right, I bet if we ask nice, Bucky’ll even make hot chocolate.”

*****

Bucky stood in the middle of the kitchen, StarkPhone held tightly to his ear and a frown on his face. “Stevie,” the frown deepened and was accompanied by a frustrated sigh. “They were found in Stark's lab, I don't know what else you want me to say.” The soldier grumbled and put a pot on the stove with more force than strictly necessary. “Yeah, she said blue light,” he poured a generous amount of milk into the pot. “I don't care if Stark says none of his gadgets go blue, Darcy was there, said it was blue.” Bucky started the stove with a flick of his wrist, before jabbing the phone's screen with one finger and lay the phone down on the counter.

“Why are we assuming that this is Tony's fault,” Clint asked, helping Darcy up onto one of the kitchen stools. Loki was tall enough to get onto the seat on his own.

“Occam's Razor,” Bucky replied, measuring out cocoa and whisking it into the milk.

“I'm sorry?” Clint's brow furrowed as he stuck his head into the pantry. “I don't see how your perpetual need for a shave has anything to do with our current situation.”

“It's a theory,” the soldier rolled his eyes. “Given two equally predictive theories, you choose the one that has fewer assumptions.”

Clint deposited a box of pancake mix on the counter. “Is that your crazy science talk again, Buck?” the Archer got eggs and a mixing bowl out, and cracked the eggs.

“Yes,” the long suffering sigh that followed spoke of how often the soldier endured this conversation with his Archer.

“Okay, run that by me again,” he measured and poured mix into the bowl and folded the eggs carefully into the mix.

“Simple things are usually true,” Loki said quietly, catching the edge of Darcy's chair with one hand and pulling both the stool and the girl closer to him, feeling more secure with her nearby.

“Right,” Clint looked over at the young Asgardian prince. No matter how many times he reminded himself that Loki hadn't really been the one to enslave his mind, the man still made him uncomfortable. The intelligence shining out of the young boy's eyes did nothing to diminish that feeling. “I need more coffee for this conversation.”

“Me too, Mr. Hawkeye,” Darcy tucked herself under Loki's are, and pressed her face into his bare shoulder. The boy silently petted the girl's hair, unmindful of her split lip still sluggishly bleeding onto his skin.

“No coffee for munchkins,” Clint accepted a cup from Bucky with a smile, and passing a Kleenex to the little girl, who just licked away the small amount of blood on her mouth.

“But, Mr. Hawkeye,” Darcy's puppy eyes, shining with innocence and light, we're almost his undoing.

“Nope,” Bucky placed a mug filled with gently steaming cocoa in front of both children. “None.” Darcy frowned at the coffee substitute, but Loki simply picked his up and took a sip.


	2. B is for Babydolls and Leather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter two of the Trickster Twins shenanigans!
> 
> Thank you as always to my amazing beta ktravierso. All remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone.
> 
> Enjoy!

Begin Again

Chapter 2: B is for Babydolls and Leather

Bucky stood in the doorway of Darcy’s apartment. He wasn’t quite sure what he had been expecting, but what he found wasn’t it. Maybe it was the fact that Loki was a prince of a completely different realm, one that tended towards the medieval aesthetic, but the clean lines of the leather and metal sofa and the lacquered bookshelves with glass shelves stuffed full of books and bobbly headed action figures, wasn’t even in the same zip code as what his imagination had conjured. He followed Clint through the apartment. Darcy’s riotously colored knit caps hung to one side of the hall closet, carefully hung on a hat tree that spanned from floor to ceiling. Both boys took a moment to contemplate the gold horned helmet that was nearly lost under the hot pink and turquoise scarves hanging off the horns, shrugging their shoulders. Loki might technically be a god, but Darcy was a force of nature.

Clint put little Darcy down on the sofa, where she curled up, pulling her purple and green striped blanket, obviously hand crocheted and well loved, over her feet and snuggling down against the fuzzy grey throw pillows. “Darling,” Clint tucked a lock of hair behind the little girl’s ear. “Do you know where you left your stuffy?”

“I always sleep with Mr. Puff,” Darcy licked her lips, letting her tongue linger over the cut on her lip. Both Bucky and Clint had looked for her lost front tooth, but neither had been able to find it in the lab, and they both agreed that the less time they spent in Tony’s lair, the better. “He’s gotta be in the bedroom.”

“Alright,” he patted her head gently and gave her a little smile. “You stay here, and Buck and I’ll go look.” Loki sauntered into the room behind Bucky, and slid onto the couch next to his friend, pulling the blanket over his own feet. The little boy was quiet, much like the man he would eventually grow up to be, but was absent the secret smile that Loki tended to wear as an adult when he was in the same room as his girlfriend. Instead, his face remained contemplative, like he was trying to find the answer to something that was just beyond his reach.

“Okay, Mr. Hawkeye,” she whispered and scooted closer to Loki, tucking her head up under his chin as the young boy wrapped her in his arms. 

“I thought I told you to call me Clint,” he told her, the little girl just wrinkled up her face and stuck her tongue through the hole where her front tooth had been. “We’re friends; you don’t have to call me Mister.” Not to mention that Clint found it a little creepy. He and Darcy had their own history, long before either Loki or Bucky had come to the Avengers, before there had been Avengers. They’d only slept together once, and they had both been beyond wasted, but hearing her call him Mister made his creeper radar spike.

“Uncle Clint?” Darcy asked in her small voice, looking up at him from below her long dark lashes.

“That’s worse,” he muttered, deciding to leave it for the moment and turned towards the bedroom, pulling a laughing Bucky with him.

“At least she’s not calling you daddy,” his boyfriend chuckled, slapping him lightly on the back and flopping down on the overstuffed leather chair just inside the bedroom door.

“Fuck you,” Clint growled and went for the bed, dark green comforter barely clinging to the bottom of the mattress. “It was once, and we both agreed we would try and forget it.”

“You didn’t,” Bucky watched his boyfriend picking up pillows, finding no teddy bear. “Do we even know if she still has the thing?”

“She did in New Mexico,” the archer said absently, shaking out the blanket. “This is why you don’t like her, isn’t it?”

“That we live in a building with my boyfriend’s one night stand, that he still goes out for drinks with?” Bucky just arched his brow. “Not one bit. But seriously, I don’t care, we all got history.”

“We’re friends, you’re just a jealous ass,” Clint rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s quiet chuckling and dumped the blanket on the bed and turned towards the dresser. The stuffed Dragon sat against the mirror, tucked under a pair of green lace panties, a pair of fuzzy black handcuffs and an impressively sized vibrator over the purple dragon’s back. “I did not need to see that.”

“What,” Bucky turned around and looked where Clint was looking. “Well, that’s more about those two than I ever needed to know.”

“Yep,” Clint nodded, as he gingerly picked the panties off the dragon’s head and pulled the stuffed animal free of the various sex paraphernalia that littered the dresser. “I think I need to go bleach my brain.” He tossed the dragon to Darcy and just kept walking until he was all the way out of the apartment. “We’ll set them up in our guestroom.” Bucky just picked Darcy up and set her on his hip, chuckling the entire time. Loki followed them out of the apartment, pulling the door behind them.

*****

Clint steered an old blue shopping cart through the closest Toys R Us he could find to the tower, wishing he’d had a car bigger than the Challenger, but Bucky refused to drive anything bigger than a motorcycle, and Steve’s bike wasn’t going to cut it either, so the limited space in Cherry was the best he could do. Not to mention that parking in New York was a bitch and a half. The cart rattled and pulled to the left as he wandered up and down the aisles of the toy store. He’d filled the basket with dolls and accessories, a little intimidated by the sheer number of different things that you could get for a chubby plastic babydoll, but he grabbed anything that he thought Darcy might like. Purple, he was looking for everything he could find in purple, because she wore varying shades of the color all the time, when she wasn’t wearing green.

Into the cart went nerf guns, for reasons, and fire engines and plastic dump trucks and cars. He dumped books from one aisle into the basket, cringing a little at the prices that stuck to the toys that he was buying, but kept going. 

Clint found himself standing in the lego aisle, and felt his jaw drop. He remembered having a box of various sized and colored lego blocks, but what he found in the aisle was light years beyond the measly few blocks he’d had. He dug his phone out of this back pocket and scrolled through his contacts, pressing his index finger on the picture of the strawberry blonde goddess of awesome.

“What can I do for you, Clint?” Pepper’s warm but clipped voice answered after only two rings.  
“I am so far over my head, Pep,” he said, still standing at the mouth of the Lego aisle.

“Tony called,” she hummed, her fingers clicking over keys, he’d obviously interrupted her work. “I don’t really know what you think I can do to help.”

“You’re scary good at dealing with Tony, kids can’t be too different,” Clint shrugged, pulling down a couple of lego sets, making sure to get a mix of what seemed to be girl legos and boy legos. At least, some of them were pink and stuff. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m standing in Toys R Us, and I think I might have had a stroke.”

He could hear Pepper sigh over the phone, the shuffling of fabric told him she’d switched ears. “You’ll do fine,” she finally said. “But seriously, what the hell do you think I’m going to be able to do that you can’t?”

“You were a little girl, right?” Clint said, trying to steer the cart towards the stuffed toy aisle. He knew Darcy liked those, her room in New Mexico had been so full of the fuzzy things there was almost no room for her, and she’d brought every single one of the stuffed, and well loved, things with her when she and Jane had moved to New York. He’d helped her bring the boxes up to her apartment when they’d been mixed up with the boxes for the lab by the movers.

“Yes, Clint,” Pepper continued to type at her computer. “Contrary to popular belief, I did not spring forth fully formed with a Filofax in my hands.”

“Right, so I got Darcy a baby doll and some stuff for the thing, did you know they have dolls that wet themselves, who would want to deal with that shit?” Clint grabbed a stuffed horse and a lizard looking thing, along with a traditional teddy bear and a calico cat.

“I wouldn’t really know,” Pepper said and sighed into the phone. “There has got to be someone else you can call about this.”

“Who? Natasha? Or maybe Maria Hill?” he dropped a weird yellow dude into the cart and decided if Pepper wasn’t going to be any help, he could be done. “I kinda figured Jane would just say to get her science things, and she's on Asgard anyway right now.”

“I see your point,” she conceded. “Get her music. Kids love music, and Darcy’s all about her iPod, she wouldn’t even let Tony make her a better one.”

“Can’t I just let Jarvis play music?” Clint looked into the media section of the store, and did not want to open that can of worms. Something told him that he would walk out with an xbox or something, and he really didn’t need anymore crap to plug into the TV. Bucky already had his Playstation and Wii, not to mention the variety of movie playing devices that his boyfriend insisted were all important. Bucky might have grown up in the thirties, but boy loved his electronics. Nope, Clint did not need to venture into that section.

“My nieces and nephews like having their own players,” Pepper stopped typing. “I’ll have some StarkPads sent over. That way they can control their own media.”

“That sounds like a monstrously bad idea,” he pushed the cart into line, waiting behind a mother with a kid who was throwing a tantrum, hanging out of the seat in the cart while he wailed. Clint just shoved his finger into his ear and talked louder. “Aren’t you not supposed to get kids hooked to the screen?”

“We’re talking about Darcy,” she told him, her voice completely empty of anything while screaming sarcasm. “Is there a moment of the day when she’s not face first in a device of some kind.”

“When she’s face first in Loki?” Clint countered, shrugging at the woman in front of him who looked completely scandalized. He just pointed at the phone. “I see your point.”

“I’m afraid that’s where my help ends, Clint,” Pepper started typing again. “I’ll send them over this afternoon. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” he grumbled and pushed the cart forward as the mother with the screaming kid left the store. Clint handed over the Stark Industries Black Amex with a wicked smile on his face. Pepper might have been less than helpful, but Tony’s money definitely came in handy.

 

*****

Bucky set the kids up on the couch in the living room of his and Clint’s apartment. It wasn’t all clean lines and modern furniture like Darcy and Loki’s apartment, but there were significantly fewer sex toys strewn around the bedroom, and the sofa would survive a couple of spilled drinks, and kid messes, where he didn’t think the beautiful leather couch in the other apartment would. And he didn’t want to de-adultify the Trickster’s bedroom, because nope.

He and Clint looked at the spare bedroom with a critical eye, the archer leaned against the wall by the door with his arms crossed over his chest. “So our choice was getting every single weapon out of our apartment, or risk touching Loki cooties and boxing up Darcy’s disturbing collection of dildos and vibrators, and we chose to move your knife collection,” he looked at his boyfriend out of the side of his eyes, still facing the bare mattress that sat on the floor of their spare room. The mattress they would have to unburden of weaponry before they moved it so they could bring in the two kids beds that Clint had shipped on rush to the Tower. “I mean, I agree with you that this is the safer option, but fuck Buck, how many bowie knives does one guy need to own?”

“I only have four bowie knives,” Bucky grumbled and shouldered passed the archer. “You have seven bows in this room alone.”

“But they’re different kinds, and different draw strengths, and they’re all important,” he followed the Soldier into the room, and unfolded a box to start moving the weapons. Bucky just looked at him. “Right, knives, yay.” He dropped an arm load into the box. “This is going to take all fucking night, not to mention we still have to put the beds together.”

“I’m not going back into the other apartment,” Bucky didn’t even look up as he dumped his own arm full of his knives into a box, only slightly more gently than Clint had. “Not until they’re big again and can put their crap away,” the Soldier shuddered, he thought himself at least a little adventurous in the bedroom, but there were things he couldn’t figure out the purpose of, and was a little afraid to ask. “And I really don’t want little Darcy in there to ask me any questions I’m not mentally prepared to answer.”

“Yep,” Clint loaded two of his bows over his shoulder and nodded watching his boyfriend’s back flex as he bent over the box, carefully loading some knives that had either lost their sheathes, or had never had them into the box, carefully tucking them in between the other knives. “We should have probably done this a while ago, this can’t be safe.” Bucky just shrugged. “So,” his eyes lingered on the other man, as he bent over to secure the box he’d been filling. “What time do kids go to bed anyway?”

“No,” Bucky looked over his shoulder at the hungry look on Clint’s face. “I know what you’re thinking, but no. Not while they’re here, I don’t want any five year old interruptions, cause I don’t think that will ever leave me.”

“But,” the archer stuck his head out into the hall to check on the kids, who were cuddled up on the couch watching some animated bunny in a police uniform. “We can lock the door,” he turned on his best puppy eyes. “We have no idea how long they’re going to be tiny, and we can’t just, you know, not do anything while they’re here.”

“Nope,” Bucky hefted his box up into his arms and moved to leave the room. “I’m still trying to process the fact that Loki has a reinforced ring hanging over their bed, I don’t think I could even perform right now, anyway.”

“Okay, but tomorrow?” Clint pouted at his boyfriend. “Cause you know, reasons.”

“Keep it in your pants, Hawk,” he grumbled and placed a kiss on the apple of his boyfriend’s cheek. “At least let’s get them in a routine before we have shenanigans in the next room.”

“Yes,” the archer did a ridiculous little dance and picked up his own box. “I love shenanigans.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My muse is hungry, please leave a little something for her.
> 
> Thank you.


	3. C is for Clint Can't Catch a Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always, to my wonderful beta, ktravierso, who goes through my chapters with a fine tooth comb, and makes sure they are fit for public consumption. Any remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Thank you for all the support that you all have given this story. I love reading and responding to all your amazing comments.
> 
> Enjoy!

Begin Again

Chapter 3: C is for Clint Can’t Catch a Break

Clint stood in his living room, watching his two charges with a critical eye. Loki sat tucked into the corner of the couch, his contemplative eyes half on the movie still playing on the television, and half watching his companion, who was systematically dismantling the dump truck toy that Clint had presented him less than half an hour before. It had become quickly apparent that Loki had no interest in the toy automobiles that Clint had seen fit to buy him, nor was Darcy in the least bit interested in the baby doll, who sat abandoned, with all her accoutrements on the coffee table. 

On the other hand, Darcy was in love with the toy trucks, or at least the prospect of being able to take them apart. She’d already taken the ladder off the fire truck, and had managed to open up the bottom of the toy, pulling out the batteries and the circuit board, which was sitting on the table next to the doll. Clint wasn’t entirely sure what she planned on doing with it, and wasn’t particularly prepared to ask. He was wondering when and if he should put a stop to her little destructive streak, that wasn’t really destructive. She was actually really meticulous about how she was dismantling things, laying them out in an impressive array around herself, a tiny screwdriver in her deft little fingers.

“We just gonna let her break everything?” Bucky came up behind him, his boyfriend's hands soft on his waistline, fingers hooked into the belt loops of Clint’s jeans.

“I don’t think she’s breaking them,” Clint tilted his head to the side as she picked up a tiny screw and fitted it into a slot, giving the dump truck a ladder where it had previously had none.

“I’m not breaking them, Uncle Bucky,” Darcy told them, her back still to them, as she twisted the screw into place, testing the flexibility of the ladder. “I’m making a super dump-fire truck.” She pulled the bottom of the dump truck, and deposited the batteries and the circuit board next to their firetruck counterparts.

“Are we sure she’s not Tony’s?” Bucky whispered, as the little girl looked at the circuit boards with a critical eye. “I mean, they kinda look alike.”

“I am not opening that can of worms, Buck,” Clint grumbled, leaning back into his boyfriend’s body. “I got a better question.”

“Mr. Clint,” Darcy was holding the little screwdriver and eyeing him. “Do you got any other tools, cause this isn’t enough.”

“Just Clint, Darce,” he sighed, it had been an ongoing debate, through the cleaning of the spare bedroom, and lunch, and now through the razing of the toys. “I don’t even know where you found that one.”

“Under the TV stand,” she shrugged, pushing the super dump-fire truck from her to stand amongst her destruction, neat piles of pieces that had been deemed unimportant. “Loki helped me find it.” She gave the boy a brilliant smile, Loki returned it, pink coloring his pale cheeks under her attention.

“Okay,” Clint nodded and accepted the tiny screwdriver from her, looking at it carefully. It certainly didn’t look like anything they had laying around the apartment, but then Tony was forever ‘improving’ shit, so it could easily have been left. “No more dismantling toys, okay, princess?”

“But all you got us were creepy baby dolls and trucks,” she frowned. “I gotta do something.”

“How about Legos?” Bucky pointed to the untouched boxes of Lego sets that sat next to the TV.

Darcy shrugged and fidgeted on her feet. “Can’t read the steps, Uncle Bucky,” she ducked her head, her long curls tumbling over her shoulders and hiding her face. “Don’t know how yet.”

“And yet she picked apart two of the heartiest built trucks I could find, and managed to make a new truck out of them,” Clint mumbled. “It’s creepy she calls you Uncle Bucky.”

“Not as creepy as having her call you Mister,” Bucky whispered in his ear before pushing away from Clint. “I don’t think five year olds take naps anymore, either.”

“Okay, new plan,” Clint clapped his hands, earning him puzzled looks from all the other occupants in the living room. “I’m going to take them down to the gym to run off some energy, while you figure out how to get that mattress out of the bedroom, and where we’re going to put it.”

“The Trickster apartment,” Bucky said firmly. “If they’re going to be living here, we can store our shit at their place and then lock the fucking door.”

“Mr. Clint, Uncle Bucky said a nasty word,” Darcy said conspiratorially behind her hand. “He should have to put money in the bad word box.”

“Jar,” Loki joined in, a small smirk on his little pink lips. “Swear Jar, darling.”

“Yeah,” Darcy fisted her hands on her hips and looked at Bucky. “You gotta put a dollar in the Swear Jar.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Bucky stalked through the living room and out the front door of the apartment.

“Okay, so let’s scoot to the gym,” Clint made a swooshing motion towards the door. “We’ll run around for a while, and then we can come back here and put together your beds.”

“What’s wrong with the bed that is already in the room?” Loki slid off the couch and took Darcy’s hand in his, smiling down at her. “You are dismantling a bed to put another bed in the room, why not just use the bed already in there?”

“It’s too big, and there’s only one,” the archer huffed out a sigh. “This way you’ll each have your own.”

“I didn’t have my own before,” Loki pressed. “I heard you and Mr. Bucky talking about the apartment downstairs, there was just one bed there, why can’t Darcy and I share now?”

“Because you can’t,” Clint told him.

“That’s not a real reason,” the little boy smirked at the clearly exasperated archer. “It stands to reason that if one bed was sufficient for us before, then one bed would continue to be sufficient, especially since we are now smaller than we were.”

“It’s not about size,” he grumbled, pushing the two kids out the door, letting it click shut behind them. “You are each getting your own bed, if I could give you your own rooms, I would do that, too.”

“But, Mr. Clint,” Darcy started, cut off by a gesture by the archer.

“Nope, discussion over,” Clint jabbed the button on the elevator. “Kids’ beds should be here soon.”

*****

Taking the kids to run around in the gym had done exactly nothing to tire them out. Clint on the other hand wanted to collapse into a heap and die for a little while. Darcy was happily riding on Loki’s back, piggyback style when they all made it back to Clint and Bucky’s apartment. The archer leaned on the kitchen counter as the two kids continued to run around the living room, seeming to need to do laps around the coffee table. Bucky had successfully moved the mattress out of the spare room, and also cleaned up Darcy’s little mess, moving the bits and pieces to the kitchen table and leaving the new super truck on the floor. He’d also pulled the tags off of all the stuffed animals, and put the Legos into a bin, sans instruction books. The man himself wasn’t present, but Clint was confident he’d be back soon.

Within minutes of their arrival back to the apartment, the door swung open with a swift kick of Bucky’s foot, as the soldier backed into the room, a large box with a picture of a bed shaped like a Viking ship on one side. “Hey, asshole, you think you can help me with this thing?” Bucky grunted, easily carrying the entire weight of the box as he backed through the room.

“Uh-oh,” they could hear Darcy whisper to Loki as they both stopped dead on the other side of the sofa. Neither kid had broken a sweat. Clint wanted to die. “You gotta put in another dollar.”

“I didn’t put in the first dollar, princess,” Bucky grumbled, looking over at his boyfriend, waiting for the archer to get up off the counter and help. “Come on, there’s still another bed downstairs.”

“You look like you’re doing just fine on your own,” Clint said, his face pressed into the marble of the counter, soaking up the cool feeling of the stone under his cheeks. “I’m just going to lay right here and pass out.”

“Nope,” Bucky pulled him up by the back of his t-shirt and dragged him out of the apartment. “Pull your weight, Hawkass.”

“But the kids,” Clint made a feeble attempt to stay in the apartment, holding onto the doorjamb for a moment before letting go.

“Jarvis,” Bucky called as he pushed the archer down the hall towards the elevator. “Put on a movie for the littles, and don’t let them do anything weird.”

“Would you like to define what you mean by weird, Sergeant Barnes?” the AI asked as Bucky pushed Clint into the elevator.

“Anything that a five year old shouldn’t be doing,” Bucky shrugged.

“Then I must inform you, that Loki has turned the toaster into a miniature dragon,” it almost sounded like Jarvis sighed, but Bucky knew he was imagining it. “It is now running around the kitchen, though at the moment it has not set anything on fire, it is breathing flames.”

“Well,” Clint banged his head on the wall of the elevator as they descended to the loading docks. “That answers the magic question.”

*****

Darcy’s bed was significantly lighter than Loki’s had been, and the two men had no trouble getting it back up to their apartment quickly, and resolve the dragon situation. Loki sat pouting in the corner of the spare bedroom, his legs crossed as he sat on the floor facing the wall, while Bucky pulled the pieces of Darcy’s purple princess canopy bed out of the box and unfolded the instructions.

“I get a really princess bed?” the little girl twirled around the mostly empty room, the sparkly drapes for her bed in her arms as she twisted herself into them. “Like for reals?”

“Yeah, Darce,” Clint pulled the plastic bags of screws and bolts open and arranging them where Bucky indicated. “You told me once that when you were a little girl you had wished for a bed with a canopy, but never got one.”

“That’s cause you listen really good, Mr. Clint,” Darcy smiled her gap-toothed smile at him, made more prominent by her missing front tooth. She bounced over to him and grabbed him up in a tight hug, her tiny little hands wrapping around his waist to squeeze over his butt cheeks as her face smushed into his crotch, making him supremely uncomfortable. He patted her on the head before gently disentangling her from around his hips and pushing her back from him. “You’re a good friend,” she gave him a big smile again, and bounced away, not noticing his discomfort it the least.

“You know I could have Jarvis record all of this for her when she grows up again,” Bucky mumbled to his boyfriend, who saluted him with a single finger. The soldier just smirked, holding an Allen wrench between his lips as he picked up pieces of the bedframe to start fitting it together.

“Yeah, cause that wouldn’t be mortifying for either of us,” Clint grumbled as he dropped down onto the floor and fiddled with one of the pieces that Bucky wasn’t concentrated on. “You think he would?”

“I have been recording the children for the past seven hours, Agent Barton,” Jarvis broke in. “Sir asked that I keep a record of everything that they do for future study.”

“Thanks J,” Bucky went back to the pieces he was intent on, sifting through the array of nuts and bolt Clint had dumped out for him. “You see a number nine bolt over there?” Bucky sifted back through what was available. “There’s supposed to be six of them, but I can only find two, and there are a dozen number twos, and there should only be four.”

Clint shrugged and lifted his legs to look under himself. “I’m not sitting on any,” he looked over to where Darcy had settled next to Loki, her hand covering her mouth in attempt to keep her giggles in. “This is going to be a long night.” He let himself fall back flat of the floor, smacking his head on the box containing Loki’s bed. “Fuck me.”

“Not until they’re asleep,” Bucky said under his breath.

“Really?” the archer looked over at his boyfriend, a grin on his face, despite the throbbing from where he’d hit his head.

“You might need a reward for not strangling Loki when his dragon bit you,” the soldier shrugged.   
“I kinda love you,” Clint pecked Bucky on the cheek as he jumped back to his feet. “Time out’s over Loki.”

*****

Bucky picked Darcy up off the floor, where she was cuddled up with Loki, both kids sound asleep after hours of making mischief. “They look so sweet when they’re sleeping,” Bucky tucked the little girl under the purple polka-dot comforter, tucking a curl behind her ear as she snuggled into the covers, her arms wrapped around Mr. Puff, and her thumb pressed between her lips.

“Loki’s heavy,” Clint sighed as he pushed the covers out from under the boy, struggling to get them over him. “Like way heavier then he should be, is it an Asgard thing, is Thor super heavy.”

“I can’t say I ever picked him up,” Bucky shrugged as they both looked at their hard work. The beds had taken hours to construct, Loki currently not helping with his duplication spell, which continued throughout the evening. There were still pieces that were left over; even if the boy swore up and down that they weren’t his doing. Clint leaned into his boyfriend as they both looked at the kids who were out for the count, he flicked off the light, the small nightlight in the corner lighting up. “Should we have changed them into pj’s?”

“Naw,” Clint pulled him out of the room by the front of his shirt and down the hall towards their bedroom. “Kids can sleep in their play clothes tonight. You on the other hand, need to take those clothes off and get on the bed.”

“I thought you wanted,” Bucky stopped as he was hit in the face by Clint’s shirt. “Yes, sir,” he laughed as Clint’s pants beaned him in the head. He whipped his shirt off and threw it at his boyfriend as the younger man pushed him onto their bed. “Come here,” the archer grinned and let Bucky pull him bodily onto the bed, their lips finding each other’s. Clint straddled his lap and started unbuttoning Bucky’s jeans when they heard a cry from the other room. Clint sagged over him, leaning his head on Bucky’s sternum, before pushing back off the bed and grabbing his jeans from where they had fallen to the floor.

“Throw me a shirt, Buck,” he held out one hand and fastened his jeans with the other, catching the shirt his boyfriend threw. Darcy’s quiet cry filtering down the hallway again as he pulled the shirt over his head. “You stay right there, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Famous last words, Hawk,” Bucky pushed his jeans off and scooted under the covers. “We can try again tomorrow.”

Clint disappeared out of the room, shutting off the light as he went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a small token in the box below.
> 
> Thank you.


	4. D is for Duped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by the partnership between myself and my brilliant beta, ktravierso, who made sure that I remembered to bring toaster dragon back, and also an off handed comment about not allowing me to lock Bucky and Darcy in an elevator in my fic Tempest... all you, baby!
> 
> Enjoy!

Begin Again

Chapter 4: D is for Duped

Clint fell back into the master bedroom and locked the door behind him, leaning against the door and taking a long look at his very naked boyfriend. Bucky lay on the still carefully made bed, his hands behind his head with a smirk on his lips.

“Darcy go back to sleep?” he asked as he watched Clint slide down the door to sit on the floor.

“Dr. Seuss and I have a new understanding for each other,” the archer mumbled into his knees. Maybe he was just really off his game since getting injured, but he felt like he’d run a dozen marathons back to back, while carrying Natasha who yelled at him in Russian the entire time. He was fucking exhausted. “Three stories, two glasses of water, and half a dozen good night kisses. She fell asleep in the middle of One Fish Two Fish,” he took a fortifying breath and heaved himself to his feet, not even the sight of Bucky’s very bare body was enough to illicit a response, which sucked cause Clint was all kinds of wanting some adult cuddle time. “You know, I’d forgotten how hard those books where to read.”

“Come to bed, Hawk,” was all Bucky said, pushing the blanket out from under himself and cuddling under the covers.

“We are never having kids,” Clint tipped into bed face first and rolling into place next to his partner.

“Really?” Bucky smirked down at his fully clothed boyfriend who was moments away from giving up on consciousness. “Cause I didn’t think it went that badly.”

Clint used his last bit of energy to heave himself to his elbows to glare at Bucky, before pitching forward again. “You are on nightmare duty tomorrow.”

“You know you’re still in your clothes, right,” Bucky smirked at the tired and exasperated groan that came out of his boyfriend. “You want some help?”

“If you undress me, I’ll want sex, and that’s so not happening right now,” Clint mumbled into his pillow, waving wildly at his partner. “Unless you don’t mind it if I sleep through it.”

“Good night, Hawk,” Bucky placed a kiss on the back on Clint’s head, mostly sure that he could hear the Hawk make kissy noises at him from where he had his face buried in his pillow. The soldier turned over and flicked off his bedside lamp and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to admit it, but it really had been a fucking long day, and kids where hard, especially ones with magic.

*****

The alarm went off at six as usual, but Bucky just couldn’t get up the energy required to get excited about a run. Darcy had woken four more times calling for Clint, or at least four more times that Bucky remembered. He didn’t even need to open his eyes to know that his boyfriend wasn’t in the room, the silence coming from the other side of the bed told him everything he needed to know, but he still reached out to the Hawk’s side of the bed to feel the cool sheets, telling him he’d been alone for what was probably hours.

After the third snooze, he rubbed his hands down his face and rolled out of bed to pull on a t-shirt and a pair of flannel pants that Steve had gotten him for Christmas in retaliation for seeing a little too much of Bucky in the mornings. Sue him, he didn’t like sleeping with clothes on, and Clint never complained. Once properly dressed he stumbled down the short hall to the other bedroom. The door was wide open and a small smile tugged at Bucky’s lips as he leaned against the doorframe.

Clint was fast asleep on Darcy’s purple princess bed, only his spiky blond hair sticking out the top of the purple polka dot comforter, and his feet were propped ridiculously over the end of the bed, his light snores audible from the doorway. Darcy had at some point abandoned Clint to her bed and was curled up with Loki in his Viking ship, her tiny body curled under the trickster’s arm, her face against his chest, and one purple clad leg thrown over his hips.

Bucky contemplated for a moment waking Clint and putting Darcy back into her own bed, but finally just shrugged and closed the door quietly behind himself. Clint would be much more pleasant if he was left to sleep, and Bucky didn’t want to risk waking the beast before he had coffee going. He hummed quietly to himself as he made his way into the kitchen and went to pull the can of coffee down of the top of the refrigerator. On the counter next to the coffee maker, Smaug the toaster dragon sat glowering at him, smoking slightly through his nostrils.

“Don’t you look at me like that,” Bucky mumbled as he measured out three heaping scoops of coffee grounds into the waiting machine. “I just held you down; Clint was the one that got out the duct tape. And we wouldn’t have had to if Loki would have just changed you back.” Smaug continued to glare, the smoke coming from his nose darkened ominously. “Suck it up.”

*****

Bucky was just scraping the last of the scrambled eggs out of the pan and onto a plate when Clint stumbled drunkenly into the kitchen in search of coffee. The soldier pulled down a mug quickly and filled it with coffee for the archer, before he could make off the with pot.

“How’d you sleep,” Bucky asked as he handed the full mug over to his boyfriend who did his best to smile, his eyes still half closed.

“Like the prettiest princess,” the Hawk grumbled into his coffee, burning his tongue as he took a premature gulp. He frowned at the offending beverage before he shrugged and took another long drink. His tongue would numb eventually, right?

“I didn’t even hear you get up,” Bucky watched as his partner alternated frowning at his coffee and smiling stupidly at it. He flipped the bacon onto another plate and pushed it towards the Hawk, who ignored it.

“Loki came and got me around two,” he said into the rapidly emptying mug and shrugged. “Darcy was having nightmares.”

“You know her best,” the soldier pulled the pot from the coffee maker and refilled Clint’s coffee. “Is that normal?”

“She had a tough childhood,” Clint shrugged again. “She doesn’t talk about it much, but she mumbles in her sleep, from what I’ve gotten, her parents kinda skipped out and she grew up in the foster system, had a couple bad homes before she got out for college.”

“And how’d you end up on the princess bed?” the Tower was filled with stories like that, bad parents, absent parents, dead parents. Darcy fit right in, he just wondered what was so bad that she was still having nightmares, or was she having the nightmares cause she was little again? It didn’t do them any good to speculate one way or another. That was not in his skill set. That was all Sam.

“Read a story…” Clint looked down into his coffee and took another deep gulp. “Fell asleep… it gets fuzzy…”

“Why don’t you go back to bed, Hawk?” Bucky plucked the mug from his boyfriend’s hand before it ended up on the floor.

“Yeah,” Clint pushed himself off his stool and started down the hallway, he only made it a few steps beyond the master bedroom before Bucky’s hands landed heavily on his shoulders, bodily turning him around and guided him into their room.

“Big bed, Hawk,” he kissed the back of his boyfriend’s neck as Clint nodded.

“Right,” he sighed and leaned back onto Bucky for a moment. “Much better,” Clint fell face first into the mattress, a soft snore coming from him as Bucky turned off the light and closed the door.

*****

Darcy woke tangled in Loki’s Viking bed sheets, the green stripes trapping her against the young boy tightly. Her eyes fluttered a couple of times before she realized she was in her new room in the Avenger’s Tower, and not at Mrs. Haddie’s house. That was where she lived the first time she was six, but now she was being taken care of by Mr. Clint and Uncle Bucky, and even if Uncle Bucky didn’t like her too much, it was still loads better than Mrs. Haddie’s. 

She pulled at the tangled sheets, her movements waking her bedmate, who smiled warmly down at her and waved his fingers making the sheets let go of them, and fold themselves at the end of the bed. Living with Mr. Clint and Uncle Bucky was so much better, plus she had Loki, and she was pretty sure she loved him in not a brother way, and that was really good.

“Good morning, Darcy,” Loki tucked a tangled curl behind her ear and stretched before rolling to the bottom of the bed and using the little ladder to climb down before helping her.

“Morning, Loki,” she smiled and pulled the cuffs of her pants down over her ankles before grabbing Mr. Puff and putting him on the pillow of her pretty princess bed. She ran her hands down the sparkly purple curtains that hung around the bed. “I smell bacon.”

“Yes,” Loki held out his hand for her and twined their fingers together to pull her out of the room towards the kitchen. “I do believe that I small breakfast as well.”

Darcy struggled to climb up on the kitchen stool, Mr. Clint’s apartment didn’t have a regular dining table, but she wasn’t going to point that out, in case it made him mad and she got sent back to the social worker, even if she knew that Mr. Clint wouldn’t do that. Loki helped her onto the stool with a hand under her butt, pushing her all the way up before climbing up on his own stool.

“No toast, Uncle Bucky?” Darcy asked, looking over the plates full of eggs and bacon and pancakes and cut fruit. Smaug the toaster dragon sauntered across the counter, his metal mouth held shut with duct tape, and little puffs of smoke trailing delicately out of his nostrils. He bumped his head against Loki’s upturned hand like a cat, before settling down next to his creator.

“Tell your boyfriend to turn the fucking toaster back into a real toaster and we’ll talk,” Bucky grumbled, leaning back against the counter with a raised brow.

“You owe another dollar to the swear jar,” Darcy frowned at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“There is no jar,” the soldier countered. Loki waved a hand at the glass of orange juice sitting on the counter next to Bucky, it shook and jumped before becoming a empty mason jar, orange juice dripped down the counter and soaked into the back of Bucky’s flannel pants. “You little shit, Jesus.” He shook his hand free of orange juice and grabbed a towel from the rack and dropped it on the floor over the spilled juice.

“That’s two dollars now,” Loki had a small half smile on his face much more reminiscent of the adult version, and Bucky had to wonder how different the Trickster god really was. “Smaug enjoys being a dragon.”

“Yeah,” Darcy agreed. “He doesn’t want to be a toaster again.” She scratched the back of the magic dragon’s neck. “And if you untapped his mouth he could make toast just fine, couldn’t you Smaug?”

“Yeah,” Bucky threw the wet towels into the sink and glowered at the children. “That’s not going to happen. Eat your breakfast; as soon as Clint gets up, we’re going back to the gym.” He looked down at his wet pants and his sticky hands and growled, stalking off to the bedroom without a backwards glance. He was positive he could hear Loki laughing.

*****

The plan had been to take the two little Trickster Twins down to the gym to run off some energy, since they seemed to have an abundant supply, but that had been half an hour before. That had been before the elevator doors slammed shut at an unnatural speed. Darcy had stood there and waved from her place in the hallway as Loki trapped them in the tiny suspended room, and Bucky was starting to feel the effects of claustrophobia setting in. He had been uselessly poking buttons, but the elevator remained suspended between the eighty eighth and eighty seventh floors no matter how many buttons he pushed.

“Jarvis,” Clint sighed from his place on the floor, his feet splayed out in front of him as he watched his boyfriend try a different combination of buttons that clearly wasn’t doing anything. “Please open the doors so we can get out.” Okay, it had been funny for the first ten minutes while Bucky had quiet but perfectly controlled hysterics at the doors that refused to budge even under the stress of his metal arm. Clint figured that Tony had a hand in that design addition. It had even been funny when Bucky had tried kicking the door, and ended up cursing and hopping when the door didn’t budge, but clearly had gotten its revenge on the Soldier’s foot. It was getting less funny by the moment as he could see Bucky’s stress level rising from mildly distressed to full on panic attack.

“I am not permitted to open the doors while the elevator is in use, Agent Barton,” Jarvis sounded far too reasonable and calm for the situation they were in. “It is against my safety protocols, I apologize.”

“The elevator is stuck,” Bucky growled and kicked the door again, repeating his performance from earlier and bouncing around the small space before starting to pace and glare at the speaker in the corner. “Not in use.”

“I have received no notifications that the elevator is malfunctioning, Sergeant Barnes,” the AI countered.

“I’m notifying you,” his voice like gravel grinding under iron tires.

“I am sorry, Sergeant Barnes, but all indications from my processors say that the elevator is functioning properly,” Jarvis replied.

“No it’s not, it’s stuck,” Bucky banged his fist on the door near the top which was still partially level with the hallway where the kids had last been. “Loki!”

“My sensors indicate that Loki of Asgard and Ms. Lewis are in their own apartment.”

“What?” Bucky stopped banging to stare at the speaker again.

“Bucky you gotta calm down,” Clint said quietly, watching his boyfriend’s chest rising and falling much too rapidly, sweat starting to bloom on his forehead.

“Clint, they’re in the dungeon,” the Soldier swung around to look at Clint, who was still sprawled out on the floor. “What if they see things?” Bucky’s eyes were concerningly wild.

“Jarvis,” Clint kept his voice calm and level, his eyes locked with Bucky’s. “Can you lock the door to the Trickster’s bedroom?”

“I am not permitted to do that, Agent Barton,” the AI replied, not that Clint was particularly surprised.

“How about you open the roof hatch, then, buddy?” the archer tried. “And then we can go get them ourselves.”

“I’m sorry, Agent Barton,” not that the AI sounded even a little sorry. “But it is against safety protocols to open the hatch while the elevator in in operation.”

Clint nodded and banged his head against the wall. It really had been funny for the first ten minutes. The door to the elevator controls landed heavily on the floor in front of him, as Bucky finally succeeded in conquering one metal hatch in the elevator. The soldier stared deeply into the inner workings of the elevator with a manic glee that Clint decided it would be healthier not to analyze. Maybe they’d get out on their own after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to tip your writer on the way out.


	5. E is for Ew Adults are Weird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to my beta, Kacie, who took the time from her vacation to look over my chapter and find my crazy mistakes. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Begin Again

Chapter 5: E is for: Ew Adults are Weird

Darcy sat on the bed in the bedroom of the apartment that Jarvis said was hers, it was so much nicer than any of the houses and apartments she’d ever lived in before, so shiny and clean. Her little feet swung back and forth as she watched Loki move about the room, coaxing her stuffies from every nook and cranny, making them walk and crawl themselves along the floor and out into the living room. She didn’t really remember being big, just a sort of vague feeling that she had grown up at one point, but she understood why big Darcy would want to live with big Loki. Loki was kind and comforting, and he was so smart. She watched as the boy flicked his fingers deep into the big closet full of all kinds of clothes and shoes, his long fingers gesturing fluidly as he pulled the last of the stuffies from the top shelves and under the heavy pile of knits that sat in the corner. 

Darcy couldn’t believe the array of colored softness that paraded out of the room; Mrs. Haddie wouldn’t ever have let her have so much. She’d only been permitted one toy that was hers and hers alone, and it had been given to her by a foster mom. The mom had been nice to her, at least in the beginning, before she got tired of Darcy and her endless colds and ear infections, and had given her back. She had given Darcy Mr. Puff and let her watch a movie about a magic dragon, and she’d smiled at Darcy and hugged her tight, before Darcy made herself such a nuisance by being sick all the time. Mrs. Haddie hadn’t taken Mr. Puff away, so Darcy had made sure to keep the purple dragon nice, because she knew she would never get another pretty present like that again. 

She watched as Loki picked through the toys that weren’t stuffed on the dresser, before shrugging his shoulders and jumping up on the bed next to her. The things on the dresser and in the drawers were weird, and she couldn’t understand why big Darcy and Loki had so many of them, the stuffies and the bobbly headed toys in the living room where so much cooler than the funny straps and shiny things with buckles.

“I can make them go up to our new room,” Loki curled his arm around Darcy’s shoulders and pulled her close into his side. She felt so safe tucked snugly into his side, safe like she didn’t ever remember feeling before. Maybe that’s why big Darcy liked him so much. “Mr. Clint and Uncle Bucky don’t want us in here.”

“I know,” she wrapped her arms around him, and let her hair fall over her face. “I like it in here; it’s so pretty and fancy.” Loki just petted his fingers through her hair, pulling it back and twisting it around before letting it fall again. “It smells nice too.”

“Mr. Clint’s apartment smells okay,” the boy told her, looking around the bedroom, filled with dark wooden furniture, the big leather chair in the corner, and the funny rings hanging empty on the walls by the bed and on the ceiling. He couldn’t fathom what they could be for, or the pair of restraints on the dresser. Why would someone want something like that in their bedroom? He thought about bringing the things he didn’t understand with him back to the apartment they were now sharing with Mr. Clint and Uncle Bucky, but thought better of it. Mr. Clint already looked at him with a little bit of trepidation, and Uncle Bucky tried to hide the fact that both he and Darcy unnerved him; he probably shouldn’t ask questions about the apartment they weren’t supposed to be in. He was already going to get in enough trouble for making them sit in the elevator.

Loki could feel Bucky’s anxiety rolling through the tower halls the longer he and Mr. Clint were stuck in the small suspended room, but he ignored it, still mad at the things he thought about Darcy, even if Loki didn’t understand a lot of them. He’d let them sit in the elevator a little longer, maybe that way Uncle Bucky would be angry at him, and stop thinking not nice things about Darcy, who didn’t deserve it. At least Mr. Clint liked Darcy. He thought very nice things about her, and always smiled at her, his eyes crinkling up in the corners that let Loki know it was genuine. Uncle Bucky thought that Mr. Clint liked Darcy too much, but Loki didn’t think that was possible, since she was the best girl ever. His mother would say that Uncle Bucky was jealous, but Loki didn’t understand why he would be, Darcy was Loki’s special friend, not Mr. Clint’s and Mr. Clint was so in love with Uncle Bucky. Maybe because Uncle Bucky had mixed up memories about Darcy and another girl, and the mixed up thoughts made him angry; he didn’t like that he couldn’t tease them apart and figure out which ones were real. A plan formed in Loki’s mind; it would make Uncle Bucky stop thinking mean things about big Darcy, and would make Mr. Clint much happier, and maybe it would make Uncle Bucky’s memories less jumbled.

“It smells better than Mrs. Haddie’s house,” Darcy agreed, slowly pulling away from Loki. “We should go back upstairs,” she laced her fingers through Loki’s and pulled him off the bed, dropping the distance to the floor and leaving the bedroom, not bothering with the light, cause she knew Jarvis would turn it off for her. “Can you really make them all march upstairs?” Her face tipped up to Loki’s, eyes wide with curiosity.

“I can,” he flicked his fingers at the waiting hordes of fluff, and directed them out through the open door. “Not forever, though,” he shrugged. “Not like Smaug,” he pulled her along back to the stairs, since the elevator was still occupied with their caregivers. “Smaug wants to be a dragon, but your toys like being toys, cause you’re so nice to them, they just want to be cuddly, so they won’t keep moving about on their own.”

“That’s alright,” Darcy nodded as she watched the teddy bear with a big red star on its shoulder help the other animals up the first step, waiting patiently to be pulled up afterwards. She would let the nice bear sleep in her bed that night, cause he was so nice to all the other toys, and nice bears should get good cuddles. “I don’t think I’d want them all to move around on their own,” she gave the nice bear a little boost when he couldn’t quite get up the step on his own. “I might lose one.”

*****

Clint sat with his back against the wall of the elevator, his eyes fixed at the tiny crack of light that told him where to door was, pointedly ignoring the other person sitting next to him. Bucky had pulled all the wires he could reach out of the little access panel that he’d managed to pull the cover off of; the only thing he’d accomplished was to disconnect to lights, plunging them into darkness. 

“Tony’s gonna be pissed that you broke his elevator,” Clint let his head thump against the metal wall as he continued to stare at the little strip of light where the doors fit together.

“He’ll bitch for like an hour, tops,” Bucky’s voice was gruff and tight, his anxiety rolling through the small room, tugging at something deep inside of Clint. “Then he’ll fix the lights in like thirty seconds and threaten to add a flashlight attachment to my arm the next time he does maintenance. He might even try and do it, but Steve’ll stop him.” Clint thumped his head against the wall again. “You’re going to give yourself brain damage if you don’t quit it.”

“Not like my brain’s useful for much else right now,” the archer mumbled and thumped his head again.

“Seriously stop it,” Bucky tried to put his hand between Clint’s head and the wall, but the metal appendage did little to keep from hurting the archer’s head. “How long you think Loki’s gonna leave us in here?”

“Until they’ve completely destroyed the Tower,” his boyfriend sighed and let it head fall onto Bucky’s shoulder, Clint’s breath puffing against his neck. “Or they get tired of playing in the dungeon and get hungry.”

“Think that’ll be soon?” he snaked his arm around Clint’s waist and pulled the smaller man closer to him.

“No idea,” Clint closed his eyes and took a long breath in, Bucky’s warm musky scent calming him despite how tightly wound the assassin was against his body. “Could be any time. Jarvis, how long have we been in here?”

“You entered the elevator forty-five minutes ago,” the AI replied.

“You wanna make out a little?” Bucky asked, nosing at the hair behind the archer’s ear.

“I really don’t,” Clint huffed, but wiggled closer into Bucky’s arms, sighing softly when his boyfriend’s lips gently grazed the skin under his ear, mouthing softly at his neck. “Come on, they could let us out any second.”

“I’m offering shenanigans in an elevator,” Bucky smirked into the side of his neck. “You really gonna turn this down?”

“How would we explain it to the kids if they opened the door?” Clint leaned into Bucky’s touch, fisting his own hand into the long hair at the back of the assassin’s neck. “You gonna tell them we were playing doctor?” he asked as their lips touched softly.

Bucky’s flesh hand wound its way down the front of Clint’s sweats. “You gonna turn your head for me and cough, baby?” he nipped at the archer’s neck as he took his half hard dick in hand, pulling gently.

“We are so getting caught,” Clint moaned, kind of not really caring.

*****

Darcy arranged all her stuffies on her brand new princess bed. They sat five rows deep along the bed long ways so the back row could rest against the wall, the last of the animals’ barely hung on the edge of the bed without falling off. “I need a bigger bed,” she tipped her head to the side and looked over at the Viking bed that was Loki’s. “Can some of my stuffies live on your bed,” she asked the boy.

“No,” Loki might think that Darcy was the best girl he had ever met, but his bed was a stuffie free zone, only Mr. Puff was allowed, and that was only cause Darcy won’t sleep without him. “They can live on the princess bed; you can sleep on the ship bed with me.”

“Mr. Clint said we shouldn’t,” Darcy reminded him, gently pushing at a cat that was tipping precariously off the bed. “He says that littles like us have to have our own beds.”

“You slept much better once you stopped sleeping on your own,” Loki said, reminding her of the nightmares she’d had the night before. “Even Mr. Clint couldn’t chase the bad things away.” He curled his arm around Darcy as she started to shake. “I won’t let anyone be mean to you ever again,” he whispered into the top of her head. “No one will ever hurt you like that again.”

“Can you see my nightmares?” Darcy looked up through her hair at Loki, his face grim as he nodded. “I know Mrs. Haddie can’t get me,” she told him quietly, letting him pull her across the room to the big pile of blankets that they’d brought from the other apartment’s living room, and wrapped her arms around herself as he held her. “Mr. Clint says I haven’t lived at Mrs. Haddie’s for a long time, and that since I got big, the social workers can’t take me back, but when I close my eyes I feel like I’m back there, and what if they find out I’m little again?”

“Mrs. Haddie was a bad person,” Loki growled, his arms tight around her. “She was a bad person, and I will never let her be mean to you again.”

“We should let Mr. Clint and Uncle Bucky out of the elevator,” she told him, a fine tremor shivering through her entire body.

“They won’t strike you if they get mad,” he told her, turning her to face him, so he could look directly into his eyes. “Uncle Bucky might get loud and yell and say mean things, but he’ll never really hurt you, not like the bad people from when you were little before.”

“Are you sure, cause he really doesn’t like me,” Darcy’s breath hitched in her chest, remembering the foster dad with his brown leather belt and the sitter who locked her in her bedroom for a week, then told her foster parents that Darcy had made a mess in her room on purpose, cause she was a bad kid. She remembered going to bed without dinner when her foster brother broke the lamp at one house and blamed it on Darcy, only to do the exact same thing the next night, and the next, until they took Darcy back to Mrs. Haddie’s. 

“Uncle Bucky has mixed up memories about big Darcy and his little sister, they make him anxious,” Loki told her. “But he would never hurt you, because that would be wrong.”

“How come you dumped juice on him this morning, and then locked him in the elevator, then?” Darcy tucked her head back up under Loki’s chin, nuzzling her face against this chest.

“Cause he thinks mean things about big Darcy and Mr. Clint sometimes, and sometimes looking at big Darcy makes him sad,” he said quietly. “He worries that Mr. Clint will want to cuddle with big Darcy and leave him all alone. And he misses his sister, and remembers how angry she was when he left to join the army.”

“But big Darcy has big Loki,” Darcy tells him, looking up at Loki in confusion. “Why would big Darcy want Mr. Clint?”

“Cause big Darcy and Mr. Clint did something bad a long time ago, and Uncle Bucky’s scared it’ll happen again,” Loki shrugged. “Mr. Clint doesn’t think about doing bad things with big Darcy, but he spends a lot of time thinking about naked wrestling with Uncle Bucky.”

“Ew,” she groans. “Boys are so gross.”

“Am I gross?” Loki asked, affronted. “Cause I’m a boy.”

“You’re different,” Darcy shrugged. “Cause you’re my boy.”

Loki nodded. “I’m letting them out now,” he said, and pulled Darcy tighter against him, letting her warmth seep into his bones as they waited for their caregivers to come back to the apartment. “I’m hungry, maybe Mr. Clint will convince Uncle Bucky to make us hot chocolate again.”

“Oh, that sounds good. Too bad Mr. Clint won't let me have coffee, I’d much rather have that. And sandwiches, oh sandwiches, I want peanut butter and marshmallow fluff, do you think Mr. Clint has marshmellow fluff?” she nodded, listening closely for the front door of the apartment to open. “Hey, do we have to feed Smaug?”

“No,” Loki shook his head. “He can find his own food.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Weekend everyone!


	6. F is for Fucking Finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday!
> 
> Thank you as always to my beta, Kacie, who is full of awesome, and gives me the most amazing feedback. I would like to note that Smaug's antics in this chapter are 100% due to her headconnon about our little toaster dragon. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Begin Again

Chapter 6: F is for Fucking Finally

Clint stood with his hands on his hips looking down at the trickster twins. Darcy looked at least a little embarrassed at the dressing down that Bucky had been giving them as he paced back and forth across the living room floor, his hands continuously finding their way into his hair, pushing it back so many times that it stuck up funny in places. Loki just sat with his hands neatly folded in his lap and waited for the soldier to finish his tirade, his face unusually blank for a five year old.

“You are not to use magic in such a way again, Loki,” Bucky finally said, finishing his lecture and leaning back against the kitchen island, taking a deep breath. “We need to set some real boundaries.”

“We’re sorry, Uncle Bucky,” Darcy sniffed, twisting her little fingers around in her lap. Her voice was thick with emotion, and she refused to look up. “We just wanted to go downstairs and get my stuffies, they were lonesome.”

“Darling, you need to stay out of that apartment,” Clint knelt down in front of her and used his finger to lift her chin to look at him. Tracks of tears stained her porcelain skin, dripping down her chin. “Oh, sweetheart don’t cry.”

“I’m really sorry,” she whispered quietly, her voice hitching in her throat as fresh tears washed down her face. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

Clint just nodded and lifted her out of her chair, pulling her into a deep hug. “Just don’t do it again,” he held her as she sniffled against his shoulder. “We need to be able to keep you safe, and we can’t do that if you lock us up and fool Jarvis into thinking everything is alright.” Darcy nodded against his shoulder, rubbing her face back and forth as her little arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

“I won’t be bad ever again,” she said into the side of his neck. “Please don’t send me away.”

“Darcy,” Clint set her back on her chair and looked her in the eye. “No one is sending you anywhere, this is your home.”

“I’ve heard that before,” she whispered, pulling her chin out of his hand. “They all still send me back.” She slid off her chair and turned her tear stained face to Loki for a moment before she trudged back into the guest room and shut the door behind herself. The bang of the door nearly startled Bucky in its finality.

“Uncle Bucky,” Loki broke the silence after a moment, pulling the soldier’s attention away from the door Darcy had disappeared behind. “Can I speak with you while Mr. Clint goes and comforts Darcy?”

Bucky looked over at his partner who just nodded at him, before disappearing into the guest room after the little girl. “What can I do for you Loki?” Bucky sighed and looked at the boy who was still sitting with his hands folded, his face blank.

“I wished to express my sorrow for distressing you and Mr. Clint,” the boy said politely. “It was not my intention to upset you so, but you must understand that I do not like the way you look at my Darcy.”

“Just don’t do it again,” Bucky shrugged, waiting for the boy to continue.

“Can we address your discomfort of Darcy?” Loki cocked his head to the side and looked at the soldier, whose eyes widened. “I am quite aware of how you feel about her, but I wished to bring to your attention how anxious she is around adults, specifically adult men, who she finds herself in the care of,” the boy took a long breath, feeling his friend calming in the other room, feeling more comfortable with Mr. Clint than she did around Uncle Bucky. “I do not know if Mr. Clint has shared with you the reasons behind her nervousness.”

Bucky took the chair that Darcy had abandoned, sensing this was going to be a sitting down kind of conversation, the way that Loki was talking. “He told me something about foster care,” he shrugged. “To be honest, we don’t talk much about Darcy.”

“Perhaps it is time that you explore their friendship, then,” Loki proposed, looking straight into the soldier's eyes and holding them. “Mr. Clint will know more, as I cannot remember all of our conversations that we engaged in as adults, but what I do remember is that my Darcy was most grievously abused by her foster parents,” he looked down at his folded hands and suppressed the need to fidget, holding his hands perfectly still. He took a deep breath and looked back up at the man in front of him, the look on the soldier’s face was mostly blank, but the horror blooming in his mind was reassuring. “Many of whom hit her, she has talked of a fear of a brown leather belt. I’m sure if you took the time to look, you would find that there are no belts at all in the apartment downstairs.”

Bucky looked down at his own belt, the dark brown leather laced through the loops of his faded jeans, the silver buckle glinting in the light of the kitchen, making his stomach turn. “So I should probably…”

“It would be a comfort to her if you would refrain from wearing it,” Loki nodded, sitting back in his chair. “Yelling is also something that might trigger her.”

“You know that I would never raise a hand to her,” the soldier told the boy, distressed at the idea of that little girl being scared of him. “Either of you.”

“And I have told her as much, but she remains worried,” Loki shrugged and dropped off the chair, looking towards the bedroom where Clint and Darcy were still talking. “Perhaps you should talk to her about why you are uncomfortable with her, it might help.”

“That might be a good idea,” Bucky nodded, holding his breath against the anxiety that coursed through him at the thought of talking about Rebecca. “But do me a favor,” he let the breath out in a rush. “Please stop locking us up in elevators and bringing toasters to life.”

“I will try,” the boy smirked over his shoulder as he turned the handle to the bedroom door. “If you put money into the swear jar like Darcy asked.” He disappeared through the door, closing it behind him.

“Not gonna happen,” Bucky grumbled, pulling his hand down his face, and taking along slow breath, trying to collect his thoughts.

*****

Bucky waited until after dinner to pull Darcy aside. She had stayed in her room for the entire afternoon, Clint explained that she felt that she needed to be punished for the way she and Loki had acted, and had melted down when Clint suggested that they just put the incident behind them. Something about letting things build, which Bucky figured was a throw back from being big and not something a five year old would have thought about, but Clint had consented and let her punish herself. Bucky hadn’t been entirely sure that was the healthiest course of action, but he let it go.

At dinner, Darcy seemed to be mostly back to her usual bubbly self, the red rims around her bright blue eyes, notwithstanding. She picked a bit at her dinner, but ate enough that both he and Clint were satisfied that she wouldn’t be hungry later, before slipping off the tall kitchen chair and taking her plate to the sink.

“Princess,” Bucky took the plate from her and helped her put it in the sink that was just a little too high for her to reach comfortably. “Do you think you and I can go down and get some ice cream and have a little talk?” Darcy shrugged, looking down at her feet. “Why don’t you go get a coat and well go to the shop at the corner?” Darcy shrugged again, still not looking up at him, and shuffled off to the guest room. “Loki, you think you and Mr. Clint can find Smaug while we’re gone?”

“He’s just hungry,” the boy told him, placing his utensils on his plate and whipping his mouth with a napkin. “He’ll come back when he’s finished.”

“Yeah, I don’t really want to know what a toaster dragon eats,” Bucky locked eyes with the boy. “Just find him and bring him back, Tony’ll kill us if the toaster burns down the Tower, and he’s gonna be back in the morning.”

“If I must,” Loki slid off his chair gracefully and took his plate to the sink, placing it on top of the other two. “We should start with the common room, as that is most likely where he went,” he pulled on his shoes and waited for Clint to follow. The archer stole a quick kiss from Bucky before jogging lightly after the boy and out the door.

*****

Darcy followed him silently all the way to the ice cream shop, her little hand in his as she shuffled miserably. He asked her what kind of ice cream she wanted, but her tiny watery eyes and her little shrug made his stomach twist, making him rethink the entire idea of dessert. Bucky sunk to his knees in front of her, and took both hands in hers.

“Sweetheart, what do you think I brought you here for?” he asked as he lead her over to a booth and helped her in, without ordering.

“You want me to go away,” she looked down at her hand still in Bucky’s metal one, now covered in a thin black leather glove. “Lots of times foster mommies would take me for a treat to wait for the social worker to come get me. I don’t want to leave. Mr. Clint says this is my home, and he won’t make me leave, but you don’t like me so much.”

“Darcy,” Bucky sighed and counted to ten, trying to compose himself. “This is your home and I will never ask you to leave it.”

“Okay,” she said, not sounding convinced. “But why did you take me to ice cream then? I was naughty today, I don’t deserve a treat.”

“Because I’ve been a bit naughty too, and I need to fix that,” he shrugged. “Now, what kind of ice cream do you like?”

“Can I have Rocky Road with gummy bears on top?” Darcy asked quietly, her little face half hopeful. “And whipped cream?”

“Anything you want,” Bucky slipped out of the booth. “Cup or cone?”

“Cup,” she nodded at her decision. “If I get a cone I’ll get all messy.”

“Sometimes messy is okay,” the soldier told her. “If you really want a cone, don’t let that stop you.”

“A cup is fine, Uncle Bucky,” Darcy gave him a watery smile, the shine of tears still holding tightly to the corners of her eyes. “Lots of gummy bears, please.”

“Sure thing,” he turned to get back in line to place their order, and a little hand in his stopped him. “Something else, princess?”

“A cherry on top?” she shrugged, her top lip disappearing between her teeth. Bucky just nodded and turned back towards the line. “Can I come with you, I don’t wanna be alone all by myself.”

“Yeah,” his metal fingers flexed carefully around hers, gripping her hand as they stood in line.

*****

Loki watched as Clint searched the common room for the toaster dragon, going as far as to pull up each and every cushion on the couch and even looking under the chairs. Smaug was nowhere to be found.

“Is he even in here?” Clint asked, his hands fisted into his hips, resting his butt on the back of the couch. “I’ve looked every where.”

“I am unsure as to where the dragon is,” Loki said from his seat at the long dining room table that took up one side of the room. “He is only partially my creation, his shape was his own creation, and since he is a construct, I cannot feel his presence. I can only feel those things that are alive, and he is not.”

“He eats, sleeps, and blows smoke. As far as I’m concerned, he’s alive,” the archer took a last look in the bread bin before slamming it shut and rolling his shoulders. “Where else would he be? For that matter, what does he eat?”

“Anything that burns,” Loki shrugged and hopped off his seat, sauntering over to the agent. “The better it burns the more desirable.”

“Oh god,” Clint’s shoulders sagged and he took off for the elevator, having a very bad feeling that he knew where the dragon was. Jarvis brought the elevator to the penthouse, opening the doors agonizingly slowly as the archer stared in horror at the toaster dragon breathing blue tipped fire from it’s mouth, Tony’s decimated liquor cabinet’s contents strewn around his metal body. “Well fuck me sideways. Tony’s gonna kill me.” He stumbled into the penthouse living room and pulled his hand down his face before scratching the back of his neck, just staring at the mess of empty bottles. Smaug turned to look at him, a hiccupy blue flame escaping his lips.

*****

Bucky waited until Darcy had finished most of her ice cream before he said anything, choosing instead to watch as the little girl carefully ate her cherry before slowly peeling off layers of the whipped cream, and then ate each frozen gummy bear, one at a time. She was just as careful as she ate the chocolate and marshmallow ice cream, taking small bites and completely cleaning the spoon before going back for more. There was still a little gooey ice cream at the bottom of her dish when Bucky decided he couldn’t put it off any longer. He took a deep breath and shoved his flesh hand into the pocket of his jeans, fiddling with the pocket watch he still carried.

“So,” he started, waiting for the little girl to give him her attention. “I’ve treated you wrong, and I’d like to apologize for that.” Little Darcy just shrugged, like it was normal for adults to be mean to children for no good reason. “It’s not okay, and I shouldn’t have done it, not when you were still big and certainly not now.”

“It’s okay, Uncle Bucky,” she put her spoon down in the remains of her dessert and folded her hands of the table, licking away the remains of chocolate at the corners of her lips. “You don’t like me,” she shrugged.

“I don’t dislike you,” Bucky sighed and rubbed his chin with his metal fingers, pushing in maybe a little harder than he should. “It’s just,” his fingers in his pocket swirled over the watch as he tried to put his thoughts into words. “Sometimes, looking at big Darcy made me sad,” he slowly pulled the pocket watch out of his pocket. It was old, old enough that the gold had tarnished and no longer shone, dark scratches covered the surface, and it didn’t have a chain anymore. Bucky fingered the clasp before finally pushing it down and pulling the front open, the spring not quite up for the task on its own after nearly a century. “This is my little sister Rebecca,” he tipped the watch so that Darcy could see the faded and yellow picture of a girl who looked like she was about sixteen or seventeen, her bright smiling face was surrounded by big curls, the little gap between her two front teeth visible even in the faded photograph. “We had a fight before I left for the war,” Bucky let Darcy gently take the watch in her hands, she cupped it lightly as she peered in at the picture, wonder on her face. “Has Clint told you about what happened to me?”

“I remember some,” Darcy tipped her little face up towards his, little sparkles in the corners of her eyes told him enough. “You went to war and didn’t come home, the bad men took you and did bad things to you, but Uncle Steve found you and brought you home, and now you love Mr. Clint and are happy.”

“Something like that,” he nodded, holding his hands around hers as she looked back down at the watch. “The last time I talked to Becca, we fought, she didn’t want me to go fight, she thought that I should stay home and be the man of the house, since my father had died and Ma needed me to help bring in money, but I wanted to fight.” He picked the watch out of her hands and looked at the picture for a moment before closing the front and slipping it back into his pocket. “The bad men took me, and I didn’t see her again. She died before I got home.”

“You miss her lots?” Darcy asked, taking his hand back, her fingers curling around the leather covered palm.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, curling his fingers around hers, reaching over with his flesh hand to wipe away a stray tear that rolled down her cheek. “I miss her lots.”

“I’m sorry I make you so sad,” she told him, her face wet, ice cream completely forgotten.

“Not your fault, princess,” he smiled at her, it was weak, and fading at the corners, but it made her smile back just a little. “I’ll try not to be so gruff with you okay? I’m sorry.”

“’S okay, Uncle Bucky,” Darcy squeezed his fingers between hers, rubbing her face into the shoulders of her jacket and trying again to smile at him, this time it stuck a little better, showing him the gap where her front tooth was missing. “I understand. Do you think I can give you a hug now?”

“I think I’d like that,” Bucky chuckled and used his own sleeve to brush away the tears that had leaked down his face. “I’d like that a lot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feed the author. Thank you.


	7. G is for Goddamn it Not Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we've had torrential rain all afternoon, and it took me like two hours to get home, so we're running a little late, but *shrug* that's life.
> 
> Thank you as always to my beta, Kacie. I love the comments you leave me when you edit, they kinda make my day.
> 
> Enjoy!

Begin Again

Chapter 7: G is for Goddamn it Not Again

It was well past Darcy’s bedtime when they finally made their way back to the Tower. The little girl swayed silently on her feet as she clutched Bucky’s hand in both of hers, her tiny footsteps knocking her into his legs every couple of feet. “Do you want me to pick you up, princess?” he asked after she nearly sent herself to the floor after colliding with his backside for the fifth time and losing her grip on his hand.

“That’s okay, Uncle Bucky,” Darcy dusted her hands off and shook her head a little to try and get rid of the sleepies that were trying to take over. “I can do it on my own.”

Bucky took Darcy’s hand back, nodding in assent, holding a little more firmly onto the girl, trying to help guide her steps. He held her shoulder with one hand as they waited for the elevator in the lobby of the Tower, watching as her eyelids closed slowly before flying back open, and then doing it again. She swayed on her feet, this time not putting out her hand to catch herself, and Bucky gave up and sank down to his knees in front of her, holding tightly to both shoulders. “I’m okay,” her eyes closed again, before slowly opening. “I can do it by myself.

“But you don’t have to,” Bucky held her chin gently in one hand and tipped her face up to look him in the eye. “Something I learned pretty recently is that it’s okay to accept help when you need it,” he gave her a small smile. “I know you’ve had a long day. I kept you out just a little too late, and maybe filled you up with more ice cream than I strictly should have. So maybe I can help out?”

“Okay,” Darcy smiled sleepily at him and let her weight fall towards him where he was holding her up. “I think I’d like it if you would carry me, please?”

“Of course, princess,” Bucky gently picked her up into his arms and smiled as her little head fell heavily onto his shoulder.

“How come you call me princess?” a yawn cracked her jaw as she snuggled into his neck.

“Cause all little girls are princesses,” he pushed the button for his and Clint’s floor and leaned back against the rail of the elevator.

“Was Becca a princess too?” her hot breath ghosted out over his throat as he nodded, swallowing thickly at the emotion sticking there. “She was real pretty.”

“Yeah, she was,” Bucky told her as the elevator rose towards home. “Just like you.” His words were met by silence, Darcy’s even breathing letting him know she had succumb to sleep. He smiled down at the little girl in his arms feeling a little more at peace with himself.

*****

Morning presented a new problem. Darcy had warned Bucky that if he let her have a cone, she would get messy, and boy was she right. He shouldn't have insisted that they share a chocolate cone before they went home the night before, but her little face was so sad and they both had tears running down their faces that he couldn't just let them walk home still feeling bad. Bucky looked over at the little girl as she sat at the kitchen counter, a tight brown curl stuck to her cheek adorably, and then over at his partner who was giving him the stink eye.

“We gotta give them baths,” was all Clint said before pouring himself a cup of coffee and leaning back against the counter. “Like sooner rather than later.”

“Agreed,” in all honestly, Loki looked impeccable for a five year old that had gone three days without a bath, but if one was getting washed, so was the other. “How old are kids when you can let them bathe themselves?”

Clint just raised a brow at his boyfriend and shrugged. “Dude, you had younger siblings,” the archer told him. “I was the youngest. How the hell should I know?”

“Please put a dollar in the swear jar, Mr. Clint,” Darcy said around a mouthful of Lucky Charms. “You said a no-no word.”

“Right,” Clint fished a dollar out of his wallet and dropped it into the jar that Loki had made the day before. He could only guess that the runes on the side said ‘Swear Jar’ since he didn’t read Ancient Norse. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“That’s okay, Mr. Clint,” she shoveled another big bite into her mouth. “We all make mistakes sometimes. You just have to admit them,” she gave Bucky a stinky eye. He sighed heavily and dug out his own wallet and dropped a ten into the jar.

“That cover me?” he looked at the little girl who didn’t seem to mind at all that her hair was sticking to her face, or that she had the remains of a gummy-bear behind her ear. He really should have given her a bath the night before.

“For now,” Darcy smiled cheekily at him.

“So? Baths?” Clint prompted.

“Fuck if I know, Clint,” Bucky pulled another dollar out of his pocket and shoved it into the jar before Darcy could say anything. “Becca was only like five years younger then me, I don’t remember when Ma stopped watching her in the bath. It was seventy years ago, I’m sure things have changed since then.”

“Probably right,” the archer mumbled into his mug of coffee. “Your mom let you teeth on sticks and rocks and shit,” he pushed another dollar into the jar. “Old man.”

“So, best not chance it then?” he shrugged. “What do you say, Darce, think it's time for a bath?”

“No,” she took a big spoonful of Lucky Charms and chewed slowly.

“No to the bath, cause you’ve got chocolate down your neck,” Clint tipped his head to the side, seeing the gummy-bear for the first time. “Yeah, I don’t think it's gonna be a discussion, you gotta wash.”

“Don’t want Uncle Bucky giving me a bath,” Darcy clarified around her cereal. She chewed the sugar in her mouth and swallowed, washing it down with a big gulp of orange juice. “I want you.”

“Bucky’s much more experienced with this kind of think, kid,” the archer argued.

“Nope,” she stirred the remaining marshmallows still melting into the milk in her bowl. “You have already seen my girl bits, it’s okay for you to see them again, but Uncle Bucky can’t.”

“Okay,” Clint looked over at his partner, who just shrugged. “How do you know about that?”

“I remember,” she shrugged.

“You remember?” Clint’s voice hit an octave that only dogs could hear. “What do you mean you remember?”

“I remember that big Darcy played with you nicely one night, and that she thought you were very nice to me, and if you didn’t love Uncle Bucky so much and Big Darcy didn’t love Loki so much, that it wouldn’t be so bad to play like that with you again,” she shrugged again and lifted her bowl to drink the sugary milk. “You’ve seen my girly bits already.”

“But princess,” Bucky tried to intervene, seeing how uncomfortable his partner was.

“No butts,” Darcy pointed at the Soldier, dropping her bowl on the counter. “Butts are bad, put another dollar in,” she pointed towards the jar, and Bucky complied numbly.

“Uncle Bucky,” Loki said very quietly from where he was finishing his own breakfast. “Possibly this is one of those things that you should let go,” he raised a brow at the other man. “I do not think Darcy is rejecting you in order to cause offence, but out of long ago discomfort,” Loki held Bucky’s eye for a moment, letting his meaning sink in. 

Bucky held the little trickster god’s gaze for a few seconds longer before breaking away and staring down at his hands, pushing away his coffee cup, suddenly no longer interested in the drink as his stomach turned. He peaked up through his lashes at Darcy, who was slipping off her chair and pulling Clint down the hall into the bathroom. “Yeah, I’ll just let this one be.” Loki nodded and took a careful bite of his cereal.

*****

Bucky heard the QuinJet land from the living room of his apartment, the kids bundled up in new clothes, both scrubbed clean, and happily sitting in front of the television, zoned out on another animated kids movie with talking animals. He really just didn’t understand why kids liked that stuff so much, but even Loki was mesmerized by the stupid singing pig.

“They’re back,” Bucky looked over the back of the couch, little Darcy tucked in under his arm, over to where Clint was refletching his arrows. “Should we?”

“Nah,” Clint ran his thumb nail under the loose feather at the back of one of his standard arrows, picking at the glue that held it to the shaft. “They’ll come to us.”

Bucky nodded and turned back to the dancing animals, a gorilla playing piano with a British accent, he just didn’t get it. “Right,” he ran his hand over Darcy’s wet curls, she smiled up at him.

Tony burst threw the doors only minutes later, followed by an exhausted looking Natasha and Steve, who leaned against the kitchen counter as Tony’s manic energy carried him into the living room. “This is incredible,” he pulled Darcy up off the couch, much to her annoyance, before circling her, his fingers in his goatee as he took her in. “She’s so tiny,” he lifted her chin and turned her face from side to side.

“Get your hands off of her,” Loki slunk off the couch and pulled Darcy, whose chin was trembling, into his arms. “She is a person and not one of your weird metal objects. She is not to be handled so roughly.”

“Adorable,” Tony chuckled and circled both children, a gleeful smile on his face.

“Children are,” Natasha rolled her eyes from where she was leaning on the counter next to Steve.

“But like really tiny,” he sat down heavily on the couch and continued to look at them. “Can we turn this noise off?” he looked over at Bucky who just threw his hands up in the air and stood to turn off the TV.

“Just make yourself at home,” the soldier grumbled under his breath.

“Thanks, I will,” Tony said absently as he pulled out a scanner from his pocket and started running it over both kids, where Loki still held Darcy tightly.

“You said they were in Tony’s lab?” Steve turned to Bucky who was glaring at Tony.

“Yeah,” the soldier agreed, giving up on the inventor and going into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. “Darcy said she saw a blue light before Loki dropped her.”

“I did not drop her,” Loki scowled. “We were both rendered unconscious and fell.”

“My apologies,” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Okay,” Natasha pushed off the counter and stalked into the living room where Tony was still taking scanner data. “Stop scaring the children, we need to go check out your lab.”

“I’m gonna take a few samples and meet you all downstairs,” he pulled out a small leather pouch that Clint was sure he’d seen Bruce carrying around.

“Umm,” the archer raised his hand, pulling attention to him. “Shouldn’t Bruce be doing the medically stuff.”

“Nonsense, I am perfectly capable of taking a couple blood samples,” Tony waved Clint away and pulled out a needle that looked way too large.

“Whatever,” Natasha rolled her eyes again and pulled Steve out of the apartment with her. “James, I trust you not to let Tony actually use that needle on either of the children.” Bucky just nodded, and swiped the needle and kit from the other man.

*****

Bucky took careful blood samples from both children, pasting a pink princess band aid over the small puncture on Darcy’s arm, and smiling at her as she wiped a couple of tears from the corners of her eyes. “See, not so bad princess,” he tugged at the end of her curls and winked.

“Not too bad, Uncle Bucky,” she gave him a little smile, and let Loki link their fingers together and pull her into a hug. “I like my princess bandage.”

“Only the best for my little princess,” he stood and dropped the kit into Tony’s hands. “This better give us some answers.”

“Won't know until I get down to the lab,” the billionaire tucked the kit into his bag along with the scanner. “No time like the present.”

“Sir,” Jarvis’ voice called through the quiet room. “I feel that it is prudent to inform you that there has been an accident in your lab.”

“What the fuck!” Bucky banged his head back against the wall. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I assure you Sergeant Barnes,” Jarvis said evenly through the hidden speakers in the ceiling. “I am attempting no subterfuge.”

“I think it’s safe to say that whatever it is that changed Darcy and Loki, is still definitely in the lab and active,” Clint frowned up at the ceiling.

“I believe you are correct, Agent Barton,” the AI agreed. “The vital signs of both Agent Romanoff and Captain Rogers have changed in a similar fashion to those of Loki of Asgard and Ms. Lewis.”

“I’m saying the lab is off limits until we can figure out what is doing this,” Clint hefted himself up from his chair, abandoning his arrows for later. “And it can be contained properly.”

“Agreed,” Bucky set his fists against his hips and looked at Tony until the other man nodded in agreement. “Can you two stay here until we get back?” he asked the kids.

“Yes, Uncle Bucky,” Darcy said quietly, looking up at him with worry written across her face.

“It’s gonna be alright, princess,” he told her. She only nodded and wrapped her arms around Loki’s waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more love you leave, the faster I write.


	8. H is for Help!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope all of your weeks are going well. Here's a very little taste of our new littles.
> 
> Thank you to my beta Kacie, who walks me through all kinds of things, like adding hyperlinks, cause I'm kinda dumb... Love!
> 
> Enjoy.

Begin Again

Chapter 8: H is for Help!

Steve sat on the cold concrete floor, his shirt pooled around him and his nice khaki pants in a puddle under his butt, along with a pair of boxers that were desperately trying to cling to his smaller hips. Natasha pushed the sleeves of her shirt back up her shoulders and turned to him, hands fisted against her hips. One shoulder of her shirt fell down and slithered off her arm as she looked at him. She roughly shoved it back up and whirled around, stalking off towards the door, tripping over herself as she fell out of the high heeled boots that she had been wearing when she was big. She kicked them away and frowned. Natasha looked up at the lab table where the blue light had come from, and started pulling bits and pieces of tech down before discarding it as useless.

*****

“Hey buddy,” Bucky leaned his head around the door jam, Clint standing a good five feet behind him in the hallway, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of going into the lab, and looked over at Steve, a sad look on his face. “You wanna come out of there? I’m sure we can get you some nice clothes that fit.”

“I’m not a baby, jerk,” Steve slid his feet under himself and stood, the arms of his shirt covering his fingertips and brushing the floor once he was fully standing. He just shrugged and pulled the underwear he still had on up his narrow hips and stepped out of the pants. New clothes would be nice. His ma would have his head if he walked around starkers, but the boxers he was holding up were hopelessly too big, and the only thing keeping his shirt on were his broad shoulders. “Don’t talk to me like one.”

“Sorry, pal,” the soldier shrugged. Bucky took a moment to really look at the boy, now free of all the puddled clothes, save the henley that he had been wearing as an adult. The blue fabric hung over his shoulders like a ridiculous cape, but not as much as it would have when he was five the first time. Steve showed clear signs of being a smaller version of Captain America, not Steve Rogers pre-serum. The boy stood tall, his head coming up above Bucky’s waist, his back straight, where it had been slightly curved even when he was five, and his shoulders, hidden under yards of fabric, where broad and strong. “But, you’re kinda five again.”

“Five is not a baby,” Steve kicked the pants away along with the shoes that were many magnitudes of sizes too big, and the tall white socks that tried to cling to his feet. “Five is old enough to go all the way down to Mrs. Potter’s apartment all by myself and help her with putting up her shopping. Becca’s too little, but we can go.”

“Mrs. Potter’s not around anymore, buddy,” Bucky straightened up and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Mrs. Potter had been an old widow of the first great war, like Steve’s ma, and had died not long before Bucky had left for Europe. She had been kind, even to the likes of Bucky and Steve, two trouble makers. She used to tell Bucky that if he wasn’t careful he would get some poor girl in trouble. She would slip condoms in his pockets before he left after he helped her home with her groceries. Bucky hadn’t thought about Mrs. Potter in a long time. “Come on, you guys need to come out of there.”

“Nah,” Steve finished extracting himself from most of the clothes that he’d been wearing when he was big and looked over to Nat, who had made her way across the lab bench and was climbing up into the crap that was strung around on top. “Nat is looking for something, I should help. We’ll come out when we’re done.”

“I think it would be best if you let the grown ups handle that stuff, Stevie,” Bucky wiggled his fingers. “Come on, Tony’s lab makes my short hairs stand up.”

“There is something just behind this case,” Natasha went to climb up the side of a metal and glass structure that was holding up something that Tony had been working on, her little hands gripping the metal shelves as her toes searched for purchase. Bits and bobs of half finished things fell off the shelves as she pulled herself up on the first one. Yhe sharp edge of one of the machines scraped a bloody path down her leg as it fell. The little girl kicked it and went for the next shelf.

“Natalia,” the Soldier’s voice cut through the room leaving no room for argument. “Do not climb any higher. Get yourself down here, and do as I say.”

Natasha bent her head and let go of the cabinet shelf, dropping back down onto the lab bench before climbing slowly down to the floor, her shoulders hunched around her ears as she trudged over to Bucky, her eyes cast down towards his boots. “I am sorry for disobeying, Master Yasha,” she told to tops of his tightly laced boots, her head bowed low.

“It’s alright, little one,” he used the tips of the fingers on his flesh hand to pet gently down the side of her face, raising her chin up to look at him. “It’s okay, Natalia.”

“I will return to the dormitory to await punishment,” she stepped back from his gentle hand and looked over her shoulder at Steve, who was still standing near their adult clothes. Her shoulders slumped more and she went to step around Bucky.

“Unnecessary,” his hand fell onto her shoulder, stopping her forward momentum.

“It is protocol,” Natasha shrugged off his hand, her own clasped behind her back. It killed something inside of Bucky to see her stand like that, her eyes fixed ahead and dead, body ridged at parade rest. He had been working towards a close friendship with Natalia now that they were both free from Hydra and the Red Room and could be themselves. His relationship with Clint had helped her relax around him in a way that she never did around anyone else, except maybe Steve, and that had been really recent. Having her back to little Natalia hurt, having her look to him to punish her made his chest tight like there wasn’t enough air in the room. Little Darcy had only just started to look at him with something other than fear in her eyes.

“You didn’t do nothing wrong, Nat,” Steve bounced over to him and elbowed Bucky’s stomach. “You tell her, punk, she didn’t do nothing wrong.” The little boy tried to pull Natasha into his arms, but she stayed rigid, slipping away from his arms, a deep frown on her face as she tried to keep her face neutral. “Hey, Buck,” Steve elbowed him again, and he hated to admit, but it kinda hurt. “You tell her she don’t need any punishment.”

Bucky shook himself out of his own mind and turned back to Natalia, who was hunched in over herself, her face carefully blank, but starting to show cracks at the corners of her eyes. “Stevie’s right, little one,” he took her chin again in his fingers, feeling the slight trembling there as he looked her in the eye. “There is no need for punishment. Let’s go upstairs and find you some clothes that fit, and clean up that cut.” Natasha just looked down at her bloody leg and swiped at the blood, wiping the little bit that got on her fingers off on the shirt she was swimming in and shrugged, still not looking up. “I bet Darcy would share with you until we can get you some things of your own.”

“Assets do not deserve their own things,” Natalia said, parroting back what she had drilled into her head when she was young. Bucky knew she hadn’t been brought to the Red Room before she was seven or eight, but Darcy and Loki had both retained hazy memories of being older, so it was safe to assume that both Steve and Natalia would, too. “There is no need for me to have things of my own.”

“This is not the Academy, Natalia,” Bucky held out his hand for her and waited until she curled her little fingers around his flesh ones. “And you are not an Asset here.” The little girl looked up at him with skeptical eyes. “I bet you both are hungry,” he squeezed her fingers lightly and held his other hand out to Steve, who didn’t hesitate to take the metal fingers in his own hand. “What do you say to peanut butter and jelly, cause I don’t trust Clint to make anything else?”

“Hey,” the man in question squawked. “I can make plenty of stuff.”

“You shouldn’t,” the little girl told him. “He can burn water. I’ve seen it.” She stood directly in front of Clint, looking him carefully up and down, before reaching her arms up, requesting silently to be picked up. The archer didn’t even hesitate, lifting his oldest friend into his arms and tucking her head up under his chin. He laid a soft kiss against the crown of her head and turned toward the elevators. “I don’t want to be little again, Clint,” she whispered to him. “Make me big again?”

“Oh, Nat,” Clint stepped into the elevator and looked back as Bucky and Steve followed, the little boy rolling up the sleeves of his shirt with Bucky’s help. “I don’t think I can.”

“You’ll think of something,” she rubbed her face into his neck, prickles of tiny tears burning his skin. “You always make things better.” He just nodded, tipping his head towards the ceiling, willing his own tears away.

*****

Loki peered into the bedroom where Mr. Clint had taken little Natasha. The light was off, but he could clearly see her tucked into Darcy’s princess bed, a little lump under the covers with Puff tucked under her arm, where Darcy had put it when she helped Mr. Clint tuck the other little girl in. Darcy had disappeared with Uncle Bucky after that, going out to try and find more beds for their newest additions. Mr. Stark had also disappeared, but Loki suspected that had more to do with the fact that Mr. Clint had threatened to shove one of his arrows in a very uncomfortably place if Mr. Stark didn’t stop poking at little Steve, than anything else. The rude man had gone down to find lab space for himself and another man so that they could run some tests on the blood that Uncle Bucky had collected. Loki was just happy that he was gone.

The little girl under the covers was very quiet, not moving more than was strictly necessary to breath but Loki could tell she wasn’t sleeping. She was hiding. He crept into the room and closed the door quietly behind him, plunging the room further into darkness and picked up a glass off the dresser where Mr. Clint had left it after goodnight kisses the night before. He dumped out the remaining water on the carpet and sat at the edge of the purple princess bed.

“I know you aren’t sleeping, Natasha,” Loki wiped the little bits of moisture off the outside of the glass. “I have something for you,” he waited for the little girl to turn over and sit up, a quizzical brow raised as Loki held up the glass. “What’s your favorite color?” The glass melted into his open palm, becoming a lump of clear nothing.

“Red,” Natasha reached out to touch the blob of glass, but stopped herself before she could make contact. “I like red like rubies and roses.” She watched as the glass reformed, growing long delicate legs tipped with ruby red pointe shoes, and graceful arms, and a beautiful and full tutu that looked like spun sugar. The little statue moved with a grace that little Natasha wished she had, but knew that she would have again someday.

“She’ll dance whenever you’re sad,” Loki held out his hands so that the little glass ballerina stepped carefully into Natasha’s waiting hands. “Darcy said you like dancing.”

The little girl held her hands carefully still as the glass woman danced over her palms. “When I was little my momma took me to the Ballet. We couldn’t really afford to go, but she took me anyway, and it was just so beautiful. I wanted to be just like those pretty girls. Momma signed me up for classes. When the Academy approached my family about me attending their special school, I was so pleased.”

“The Academy can’t get you here,” Loki held the tip of his finger up so that the ballerina could use it to execute a perfect turn, before she bowed and went still. “Uncle Bucky and Mr. Clint will keep you safe, and so will Darcy and I,” he tucked a stray bit of long curly red hair behind Natasha’s ear. “Put your doll up on the dresser and come play with Steve and me in the playroom. Mr. Clint is helping us build a tower with the blocks he got us.”

“In a minute,” Natasha ran a careful finger along the edge of the[ glass figurines tutu](http://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/86/7f/0f/867f0f9e9f85d029ca14a9aa5fc83e2c.jpg), the hard edges catching at the pads of her finger, but not tearing the skin. “I think I’ll name her Maya,” she stood up on her tiptoes to place the doll on the top of the dresser far enough back that she wouldn’t accidentally tip off. “There was a prima ballerina in Russia, she’s not quite as old as I am, and she wasn’t dancing when I was little, but she lead a pretty amazing life, her name was Maya Plisetskaya. They thought she was a spy.”

“Sounds fitting,” Loki nodded and tucked Puff back under the covers of Darcy’s bed. “Come on, Mr. Clint will start to wonder where I went if we don’t get back out there soon.”

“Don’t underestimate Clint,” Natasha tipped her head to the side, looking at her glass ballerina as it gave her a graceful little bow. “He only looks clueless, he sees more than you would think.”

“I know,” the boy held out his arm for her. Nat tucked her hand into his elbow, and let him escort her out of the room. “You wouldn’t be his friend if he wasn’t just as deadly as you are.”

“I’m friends with Darcy,” Nat shrugged.

“My Darcy is the most diabolical of all of us,” Loki winked, closing the bedroom door silently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise less feels in the next chapter, and lots of laughs.
> 
> Don't forget to leave comments and kudos, they make my world go round.


	9. I is for Incorrigible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter took way longer than I would have liked, and what you're reading is the second incarnation, because the first one sucked, like the big one. 
> 
> Thank you to my amazing beta, Kacie, for not killing me. Seriously, you deserve all the props for not flying across the country and stabbing me in the face. You're awesome.
> 
> Enjoy!

Begin Again

Chapter 9: I is for Incorrigible

Bucky held tightly to Darcy’s hand as they weaved through the crowd getting off the subway and steering them towards the closest Target, which was much farther away than he would have liked. The Soldier didn’t know how much he needed a Target store in Midtown until he had four five-year-old children. Seriously, how did anyone live in Manhattan without a Target close by? The little girl kept both of her hands around his metal fingers, holding on as he lead her up the escalator and took a moment to orient himself. The last time he’d been in Tribeca, he was pretty positive that Roosevelt had been president, and it all looked a little bit different.

“Uncle Bucky?” Darcy tugged at his hand as they rounded a corner towards where he was sure Target was, silently counting the blocks. “Can we go to the candy store on the way home?”

“Sure princess,” Bucky watched the traffic signal for the walk sign before glancing down at the girl. “Is there something you want we can’t find at Target?” He had spent the morning the day before browsing the Target website with Clint, not their usual web surfing fair, but it was eye opening. They had fucking everything.

“Nat likes peachy penguins,” she shrugged, her little legs working double time to keep up with the Soldier as he hurried them across the street. “There's a candy store near the Tower where she goes to get them. They’ll make her less sad.”

“If you think that’ll help,” he smiled down at the little girl, she had such a big heart, it tore him up to know that she was so badly mistreated during her first childhood. “Is there anything special you want to get for yourself?”

Darcy tipped her head to the side and thought as Bucky gently pushed her through the doors to the store they had traveled halfway across Manhattan to get to. “No,” she finally shook her head, lifting her arms in a request to be lifted into the plastic shopping cart. “I don’t need anything.”

“You sure?” he steered the cart down the first aisle reading the signs hanging from the ceiling looking for kids clothes and angling them towards the back of the store. “I’m pretty sure that Mr. Stark wouldn’t object to you getting something special just for you.”

“No, I’m okay, Uncle Bucky,” she reached out of the cart and snagged a child sized fedora in a dark gray and dropped it in the cart. “Loki likes hats,” she offered in way of explanation. “Oh, they have sparkly red shoes, you have to get those for Nat, she loves red.”

“I remember,” Bucky cleared his throat and selected a box that looked about to be the right size for the diminutive Black Widow. Her feet where just a little bit smaller than Darcy’s. “Do you wanna get down and pick some stuff out for Natalia, while I look for Stevie?”

Darcy snagged a pair of dark gray tights off another rack as they passed and shook her head. “Don’t wanna get lost,” she pointed towards the girl's pants and pulled a pair of jeans off the shelf followed by a pleated black skirt and a sparkly hot pink sweater. “I can’t see over the clothes.”

“Okay,” Bucky fingered the hangers on a rack of dresses with tutu like skirts on them. “Whatta ya think?”

“The purple one,” Darcy nodded, dropping a shirt that said ‘Dance Dance Dance’ on the front in sparkles into the cart. “Um, I think Mr. Tony followed us.”

“What?” Bucky whipped around, and sure enough there was Tony Stark with a cart piled high with all kinds of weird crap. “Stark?”

“Jarvis locked me out of the lab,” he snatched a dozen boys t-shirts, each one emblazoned with the cartoon likeness of each of the Avengers. “Huh, they made Bruce’s pants purple,” Tony dumped the lot into the cart that Darcy was riding in and wandered into the boys section. “I wonder who signed off on that?”

“What’s Mr. Tony doing?” Darcy asked as the man in question came back with his arms loaded down with jeans.

“Annoying me,” Bucky replied, pushing his cart further into the girls section and ignoring the mechanic as he wandered back and forth dumping odds and ends into the cart. “Unicorns?” he held up a purple shirt with a big white unicorn on the front.

“Yes,” the girl nodded enthusiastically and made grabby hands for the shirt that he was holding up. “I love unicorns, Nats bought big Darcy a pretty glass unicorn last time she went on mission to France, it's very fancy.”

“Do you want a unicorn shirt too?” he picked up another in her size without waiting for a response, dropping both in the quickly filling cart. Tony breezed by with a small set of tools in hot pink, dumping them in the cart before disappearing again. “And apparently a new set of ratchets.”

“Mr. Tony lets big Darcy build things in his garage sometimes,” she shrugged. “He’s been teaching me about cars.”

“That’s a good thing to know,” sometimes Bucky forgot that Tony was such a softy, especially when he was bugging the shit out of him.

“I’m too little right now,” Darcy said softly, looking at the bright pink plastic box that held the tools. “But maybe he’ll let me play with Dumm-E.”

“That the one he’s always yelling at?” Bucky grabbed a pair of tennis shoes in the same size as the sparkly red pair and steered them out of the clothing section, looking momentarily back at the cart that Tony had abandoned, before shrugging and leaving it in the middle of the aisle.

“He yells at Dumm-E cause he loves him,” the little girl nodded, snagging a last pair of tights, these with red hearts on them, and dropping them in the cart. “Sometimes he lets me play with his robots, and Dumm-E is the most gentle, so I bet he’ll let me play with him if I ask nice.”

“But no going into Mr. Tony’s lab,” the Soldier steered them down the toy aisle, looking at the myriad of toys that the store offered, getting a little overwhelmed as Tony breezed by again with an arm full of Avenger’s themed toys, including a small plush version of Steve’s shield, dropping them all into the cart.

“We should have stock in Target,” Tony ruffled Darcy’s hair as he passed, handing her a plush Hulk. “You like soft things, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer, disappearing around the end of the aisle, presumably to retrieve the cart he’d abandoned.

“Anything Tony missed?” Bucky looked into the back of the cart, piled high with kids clothes, toys and what looked like an Ironman helmet that was actually a nightlight.

“Nope, we just gotta go get Nat’s candy,” Darcy shrugged, hugging her new Hulk plushie. “Do you think Mr. Tony wants to come to the candy store with us?”

“I don’t know princess,” please no, Bucky thought silently as he pushed them towards the checkout lanes.

“Did you say candy,” Tony hoped along with his cart, pushing it in short jerky motions as he bounced. “That place down the street from the Tower? Natasha spends way too much money there.”

“We’re gonna send this stuff to the Tower and head that way,” Bucky sighed, knowing that the billionaire would have some kind of plan to make their little trip to buy some penguins so much more involved.

“Send it with Happy,” Tony lead them into a checkout line and pulled out his StarkPhone, tapping at the screen. “We can head right there.” Something on the phone beeped, and Tony grinned at the shocked looking cashier. “This’ll all go on the card,” he handed over the card and winked at Darcy. “We came in with the cute one,” he held his hands out to the little girl in the cart.

Darcy glanced over at Bucky, then back at Tony before nodding, and letting the inventor pick her up.

*****

Darcy sucked on a lollipop that was shaped like Thor’s hammer as they walked the three blocks back to the Tower, after buying an embarrassing amount of candy at this little boutique candy store, where Natasha had an account, one that Darcy was aware of. The little girl had informed Bucky that their friend had quite the sweet tooth. Darcy pulled the pop out of her mouth and grinned up at him, her other hand gripping tightly to another bag filled with treats for each of them.

“Thank you for taking me with you, Uncle Bucky,” she looked up at him as they stopped at a light across the street from the Tower, pushing the hammer lolly back into her mouth, grinning around it. “It was lots of fun.”

“No problem, princess,” he put his hand on the back of her neck as they walked across the street, dodging around people who were always crowded in front of the Tower. He pulled his cap further down over his forehead and ducked down to pick the little girl up, the bag full of candy bouncing against his back as he rushed in the front doors before anyone could recognize him. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, there was a mixed bag of responses, which he rather not share with little Darcy. Her sticky fingers made their way up into his hair as the elevator doors closed, pulling the hat off his head and tucking it under her arm as they rode.

*****

Natasha was tucked up between Steve and Clint on the couch as a blue train talked about being useful on the screen. Loki had abandoned them for something in the bedroom.

“You feeling better Nat?” Clint asked, tucking the small version of his best friend up under his arm.

“Yeah,” she nodded quietly, not taking her eyes off the screen. She never really watched TV unless she was with Clint or Darcy, as an adult she never found much use for losing hours staring at a small screen with moving pictures. Watching the little train learn how to get along with his friends made the past time make more sense. “I like Thomas.”

Clint nodded absently, smiling down at her. “It's not Dog Cops, but it’ll do.”

“Dog Cops is dumb, Clint,” she rubbed her face against his arm, and pulled it tighter around her shoulders. “I never wanted to say, but it's really dumb. I only watch it cause you like it. Bucky feels the same way. Darcy likes it, but that’s cause she likes anything fuzzy.”

“I am genuinely hurt right now, Nat,” he held his free hand over his heart and looked down at his tiny friend. “I might be bleeding,” she rolled her eyes at him and tucked her feet up under Steve’s leg. The tiny super soldier patted her leg smiled at both of them, ignoring them as they talked through the show, like he always did when they were big.

“Suck it up, buttercup,” Nat stuck her tongue out at the archer. “Now shut up, Thomas is looking for the dinosaur, I wanna see.”

“Sure,” Clint slumped back into the couch, sighing.

“We’re home,” Bucky dropped his keys into the bowl by the door and set Darcy down on her feet, the little girl swaying a little as she walked over to the couch, pushing Clint out of her way to cuddle with Natasha. “You miss us?” he raised a brow as the archer tripped around the side of the couch to greet him. “When did she get up?”

“Loki dragged her out of their room,” Clint shrugged, accepting a light kiss on the lips. “He made her a little glass ballerina. The thing dances and everything.”

“Really?” Bucky ruffled Steve’s hair as he passed the couch, kicking his shoes off into his bedroom. The little super gave him a dirty look over the top of the girl’s heads before going back to the show. “It's not going to drink all of Tony’s vodka and set fire to the kitchen, is it?”

“Just dances,” the archer shrugged and knocked on the kids bedroom door. “Lokes, you gonna come out?”

“I seem to have a problem,” came the reply through the door. Bucky jiggled the handle, finding it locked. He twisted the handle harder, breaking the lock and pushing the door all the way open until it hit the wall. Inside the room, little Loki sat on the floor, holding the ballerina back with one hand as he used a forcefield to keep Smaug contained, the field shimmered bright green every time the toaster dragon fired at it. “I don’t think they’re going to be friends,” he looked up at the two adults, who had stunned expressions on their faces. Loki gently picked up the ballerina and held it out to Clint, who took it carefully, the momentary lapse in concentration caused the forcefield to fail, and Smaug charged. Bucky kicked the toaster dragon into the closet and shut the door.

“Please,” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the sheepish looking boy. “Turn that thing back into a toaster, please.”

“I don’t know how,” Loki whispered.

*****

Bucky collapsed back onto the bed he shared with Clint letting out a long sigh. “You know, before we had kids, I thought I was in great shape,” he waved his hands back and forth, the archer chuckling from where his was propped up on the headboard, a tablet in his hands. “But, I’ve apparently been slacking, cause I’m exhausted.”

“Naw,” Clint placed the pad down on the bedside table and crawled over to where his boyfriend was laying prone on the bed, and snuggling up under his metal arm, head on Bucky’s chest. “Kids are supernatural, man, ain’t no body in great enough shape to keep up with those little monsters. And now we have four.”

“Two was hard,” Bucky nodded, pulling Clint down against him, and wrapping his arms around the archer. “You know that sex we keep planning on having?”

“Oh, Buck,” the other man chuckled, rubbing his face into the soldier’s chest. “I don’t think it's gonna happen tonight.”

“Yeah, me either,” he sighed and kissed against the top of Clint’s head. “I was gonna tell you, that if you were determined, you would have to do all the work, cause I’m done.”

“Get out of those clothes and climb in bed, babe,” Clint pecked him on the underside of his chin and rolled away. “Let's get some sleep before someone has a nightmare.”

“Don’t say that,” Bucky groaned as he hefted himself up into a sitting position, it hadn’t been that hard to move since his first week of basic. “You’re gonna summon them.”

“Clothes off,” the archer pushed him the last few inches off the bed. “In bed.”

Bucky nodded and pulled his shirt off by the back of the collar and dropped it on the floor, resolved to put it in the hamper later. “Hey,” he flicked the button of his jeans open and pushed the material down his thighs. “You think Tony low jacked the arm?” He held his metal arm out, turning it over and looking at it from different angles as he kicked away his pants. “Cause he just showed up at Target, like he had some kind of homing beacon on me.”

“Pretty sure he’s got trackers on all of us,” Clint relayed from behind his tablet again, running his finger over the screen. “Nat keeps the ones she finds in a Faraday Cage in her apartment. She’s up to like a hundred.” He cheered as he beat the level on his game and moved on to the next one, looking over the top of the tablet when Bucky didn’t say anything. “It’s left over shit from Ultron, when Nat got snatched. Tony felt responsible, you know how he worries.”

“So that’s a yes,” Bucky rolled his shoulder, recalibrating his arm, and slid into bed as the plates went through their checks. “Tony fucking low jacked me.”

“Me too,” the archer sighed and closed down his game, rolling over to drop the tablet and turn off the light. “You’re not special.”

“That’s not what you said the other night,” Bucky smirked at his boyfriend, who rolled his eyes and accepted a long slow kiss, before scooting down under the covers.

“That thing you do with your tongue,” Clint laid his head down on Bucky’s flesh shoulder, breathing in the soldier’s leather and metal scent. “That’s special,” he kissed against the curve of Bucky’s bicep. “But Tony doesn’t know about that, and thus, you are not special. The low jacking, that’s just Tony’s way of telling you he cares.”

“Yeah, its really sweet how he can follow me on his phone, and knows every where I go,” Bucky kissed Clint’s hair and closed his eyes. “Night, doll.”

“Aww, it's sweet,” the archer smiled into the soldier’s arm. “Night, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little Loki reads all the comments to Darcy, so give them some love.


	10. J is for Just Shoot Me Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Tiny Person Shenanigans!
> 
> Thank you to Kacie, for encouraging my crazy.
> 
> Enjoy.

Begin Again

Chapter 10: J is for Just Shoot Me Now

Bucky woke in the dead of night to find that his bed had been invaded. Four small bodies were crammed into the space between himself and his lover, one of which was slowly stealing his pillow away, while jamming their head into Bucky’s.

“Stevie,” the soldier gently pushed the boy’s shoulders until he rolled on his back, one leg kicking out at catching Clint square in the jaw. The archer grunted uncomfortably as turned over, dislodging the sleeping Natalia, who rolled into the space Clint had vacated, pulling Steve down with her. “You have got to be kidding me.” Bucky, half rolled and switched on his bedside light, the dim light glinting off the silver cuffs that held Steve to the little Widow, her tiny wrist already turning an angry red from where her side of the handcuffs dug into her skin. 

The former Winter Soldier rubbed his hands down his face and bent over Steve to get a look at the cuffs. There was a small trigger on the side of each of the silver metal bracelets, which released the locking mechanism. He gently thumbed the release on Steve’s side and pulled the ends away from the boy's skin before turning to where Natalia still lay. The trigger on her side of the cuffs was hidden under her arm, tucked tightly to her body, where the little girl had curled up into Steve’s side, her little face pressed into the warmth of the tiny super soldier’s stomach, her legs thrown over Clint’s back. “Natalia,” he prodded her gently, trying to get her to unlock her arms. “Malen’kiy,” he shook her shoulder, sliding his hand along the inside of her arm, reaching down to where the handcuff was linked, pulling it away from her body. His finger pressed the release and the cuff fell away, jarring her instantly awake.

“No,” Natalia grabbed for the cuff and locked it back over her wrist, a look of horror on her face.

“Natalia,” Bucky tipped her face up to his, tucking a long piece of red hair behind her ear. “I told you that there would be no handcuffing anyone to the bed in our house, little one.”

She rubbed at her tired eyes, the open end of the cuffs hitting her elbow as she moved. “Couldn’t sleep, Master Yasha,” she looked forlornly down at the dangling silver bracelet, fiddling with the open end.

“So you handcuffed yourself to Steve?” he pulled the little girl over the sleeping form of his tiny best friend, and settled her snuggly against his chest, tucking them back under the covers with difficulty. He looked down the bed to see Loki and Darcy tangled together on top of the blankets, pinning not only the comforter down, but both laying across Clint’s legs. Darcy’s arm that wasn’t holding the tiny god to her was tucked under the archer’s thigh, her little mouth open as she snored lightly, a line of drool running down the other man’s leg.

“There was nowhere on the bed to hook them,” Natalia knocked on the solid wood headboard, her eyes never leaving the open end of the cuffs.

“Fair enough,” Bucky nodded. There was a reason that they had a solid headboard, none of which had anything to do with handcuffs. “What did Steve say when you asked to cuff yourself to him?”

“Didn’t ask,” she shrugged and tightened the end of the cuffs that was around her tiny wrist, the metal cutting into the skin. Bucky grabbed her wrist and flicked the release and pulled them away, turning her arm around to get a better look. The skin was red and raw, but not broken.

“Malen’kiy,” he sighed and dropped the cuffs off the side of the bed to deal with in the morning. He was seriously planning another long talk with Jarvis about letting the kids into the Mischief suite, because he had no doubt about where the tiny Red Room assassin had found trick handcuffs. “If you have trouble sleeping, I would much rather you just let myself or Clint know.”

“It is forbidden for assets to leave their beds in the night,” Natalia told him, pulling her arm back from his hold and scooting just a little away from him, tucking herself back up against Steve, who rolled to curl around her.

“You came in here,” Bucky reasoned. “All of you.”

“Cuffed to Steve,” she shrugged, pulling the tiny soldier’s arms around her. “Had to come.”

“Right,” he rubbed his eyes and looked down at the kids tucked into his bed. “We’ll talk about this in the morning, go back to sleep, little one.”

“Cuffs please?” the little girl asked, holding her hand out for the discarded handcuffs.

“No, malyshka,” Bucky traced the side of her face with the tips of his fingers. “We aren’t in the Red Room any more, you have to learn to sleep without them.”

“Master Yasha?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for protecting us,” Natalia held his gaze for just a moment longer before turning over in Steve’s arms, kicking her legs back over Clint’s back and closing her eyes.

“I don’t see how he could sleep through all of this,” Bucky mused as little Steve kicked out at Clint’s head again, and rolled both himself and Natalia down the bed to tuck into Loki and Darcy. “Fucking spy my ass.” He turned over and turned off the lamp. “The bed's not big enough for six.”

*****

The alarm went off entirely too early. Clint turned to wake Bucky, and found a himself faced with Tiny Steve’s not so tiny backside. “What the fuck,” the archer pushed at the tiny butt in is face and got smacked with a tiny foot in response. “I am so getting you back for this shit when you get big.” He sat up, and rubbed his hands over his face. “Bucky,” he reached over the still sleeping forms of Steve and Nat, who were curled up on Bucky’s pillow, the little girl having tucked herself almost entirely under the boy. “Bucky turn off the alarm,” a quiet grunt from the other end of the bed was followed by the clock being flattened by his boyfriends metal fist. “Thanks.”

“Go back to sleep,” Bucky grunted, trying to pull his pillow back from the tiny Avengers curled at the top of the bed. “Too early.” The soldier turned over and gave up on the pillow.

Clint nodded and flopped back down onto his own pillow, right over Steve’s legs. He huffed out a long breath and pushed the boys legs off the pillow and turned himself over, mindful of where Darcy had her head pillowed just above his knee. He twisted the leg under her head slowly, cold wet sliding down his leg and onto the bed. “Really?” he looked down to the little girl where she slept with her mouth open, a string of saliva dripping from her lips and onto his leg. He sat up and felt around, the sheets under him cold and damp enough that she had clearly been at it all night. “Bucky, I’m going to go back to sleep on the couch.”

“No,” the former Winter Soldier whined, his arm flailing out to catch the archer. “They’ll bury me in tiny if you leave.”

“All’s fair in love and war, darling,” Clint tipped himself off the bed, landing with a grunt before disentangling his legs from the sheets and grabbing his pillow. “Darcy drools, and my side’s all wet.”

“You sure it was Darcy?” Bucky raised a sleepy brow.

“Yeah, dead sure,” the archer growled. “I’m starting coffee, it's too early for this shit.” Bucky just waved him off and tugged at the blankets as he turned over, all four kids rolling towards him. “Stupid bed.”

*****

Steve wandered into the living room, scratching at his bedhead, exactly like big Steve normally did. The tiny super soldier climbed up onto one of the bar stools and slumped over the counter.  
“Morning sunshine,” Clint leaned on the opposite counter, a cup of coffee in one hand, and his cell phone in the other, pressing the camera button and capturing the blurry eyed child’s glare for posterity. “You know, I was a little surprised to find that I wasn’t woken a million times for nightmares last night, and then I woke up with your tiny butt in my face.” The little soldier just glared at him, before letting his head flop down on his folded arms. “Not quite awake yet?” The boy didn’t respond. “Okay then.” Clint put his mug down in the sink and turned to the coffee maker, dumping the used grounds into the trash and starting a second pot. “I assume if you’re up, the others will follow?”

“Bucky’s trying to get Darcy up,” came the muffled reply from the counter. “She doesn’t want to get out of bed.”

“Has she tangled herself in the sheets yet?” the archer poured water into the back of the coffee maker and flipped the lid shut and turned it on.

“She kicked him in the face,” Steve’s shoulders hunched momentarily up around his ears without lifting his head. “That’s when I left.”

“Ah,” Clint ran a towel on the counter by the coffee machine then tossed it up on his shoulder. “I’ll help.”

“She do this every day?” the boy asked, peeking up from his arms.

“Every day I’ve known her,” the older man shrugged. “Loki had a shiner the morning after they first spent the night together, actually, I did, too.” He dropped the towel on the counter by Steve and left the room. “I’m guessing Loki’s learned to duck since then.”

“Girls are weird,” came the reply from behind him.

“You are preaching to the choir man,” Clint laughed and waltzed out of the kitchen, to the sound of his partner calling for him. “Duty calls.”

*****

Clint let gravity pull him down onto the couch, dropping into the cushions as he simultaneously searched them for the lost remote, Netflix asking if he was still watching Magic School Bus. The answer was not really, but the kids seemed to like it. So he dug in between the couch cushions for the wayward remote so he could get the program running again before Bucky came back to the living room with their charged, freshly changed into their pajamas. Clint didn’t know why he or Bucky even bothered changing into real people clothes any more. They rarely, if ever, left the Tower with the four kids because that was a nightmare and the only places they routinely went a week into being a family of six was the gym or the new lab that Tony had set up off the common room for tests. The kids hated going to the lab, which meant that he hated it too. Natasha cried every time.

He lifted the remote into the air in triumph when he finally located it, pointing it towards the television and thumbing the enter button and starting a new episode of the kids show. Little Steve came barreling around the corner as the theme song started to play.

“Mr. Clint,” the little soldier skidded to a halt on socked feet right in front of the couch. “Bucky got me new pjs!” Steve struck his best superhero pose, hands on his hips, with his little chest thrust out and head back, the little red cape that was velcroed to the shoulders of the Superman pajamas fluttering around behind him. “How do I look?”

“Like a real hero, buddy,” Clint ruffled the boys hair and patted the seat next to him. “You ready for popcorn?’

“I’d sure like that a lot, Mr. Clint, sir,” the boy grinned brilliantly. “We should wait for Loki and the girls, though.”

“No worries,” Clint pulled himself up off the couch, catching a tiny Darcy, who skidded down on her butt, her bright purple pjs twisted a little around her body. “They’re coming,” he picked up Darcy and dropped her on the couch next to the little super soldier. “I’ll just get it going.”

“Mr. Clint?” Darcy asked, peeking over the back of the couch. “Can you put M&M’s in mine?”

“Sure, sugar,” he bopped her on the nose and turned to the kitchen, passing Loki and Nat, who held tightly to Bucky’s hand as she walked, her long night shirt fluttering around her feet as she tiptoed beside the soldier.

The former Winter Soldier laid a small kiss on the crown of the tiny assassin’s head and pushed her into the living room. “We’ll be in soon,” he gave her a warm smile. “You guys sure you don’t want to watch a movie?”

“No, Master Yasha,” Natasha frowned, looking over at the other kids, who all nodded to the shy girl. “We wanna watch School Bus, please?”

“Sure, malyshka,” Bucky smiled at her. “Whatever you kids want.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly, her feet barely touching the floor as she danced on her toes into the living room, letting Steve pull her up onto the couch between him and Loki, folding her little hand into his.

“Are we worried about her?” Clint said quietly, his lips grazing Bucky cheek as he tucked his arms around his lover, the both of them leaning on the kitchen counter as the popcorn spun noisily in the microwave.

“A little,” Bucky shrugged, sighing as the archer’s arms tightened around him. “The Academy took her at eight? My memories of that time are still a little fuzzy. But by the time the Soldier was pulled in to train the girls, she was fifteen, so I can’t really tell you what she was like at this age. At fifteen, she was a force to be reckoned with, top of her class. The Soldier was proud of the killer she had been molded into by the time he sent her off to graduate at seventeen.”

Clint just nodded against the side of his lover’s face. “It’s almost hard to see my best friend in this little girl,” he said. “She’s so quiet and meek and scared. Nat’s never scared.”

“She is,” his boyfriend disagreed. “As an adult, she just hides it better.”

“Okay, point,” the archer pulled the finished bag of popcorn out of the microwave and replaced it with a new one. “I just,” he sighed, deflating. “I miss having my friend.”

“I know, vozlyublennaya,” Bucky pulled Clint to his chest and kissed against the archer’s temple. “I miss her too. But we have these little ones, and they all need so much love.”

“Can we talk about the fact that Tony’s been in his lab, and so has Bruce, and there haven’t been any more accidents,” the younger man pressed into his lover’s embrace. “Just these four.”

“Well,” Bucky sighed, and leaned his forehead against Clint’s back. “There could be a million reasons why that is.”

“Tony hasn’t found anything with all the tests he’s performed, except a little bit of bizarro radiation that is linked to magic,” the archer pulled bowls down from above the microwave, and tipped the finished bag of popcorn into two of them. “And since both Darcy and Loki are always steeped in the stuff, and it's all over the Tower, that doesn’t tell us much.”

“No,” the soldier pushed back and grabbed the bag of M&M’s from the other counter and handed it to Clint. “Its gotta be something. I mean, if we look at it in a broad perspective, both Darcy and Natalia had pretty shitty childhoods, but both Loki and Steve’s were both pretty good, all things considered.”

“Right,” the archer poured a healthy amount of the chocolate candies into one of the bowls. “So, are we thinking something like a redo? But why and how?”

“No idea, it's just been kicking around in my head,” Bucky shrugged and handed his boyfriend the second bag of popcorn. “I don’t know, I’m a fucking assassin, this is not in my skill set.”

“Me either.”

“Uncle Bucky,” came a shriek from the living room. He didn’t even hesitate, jumping the kitchen island in a single bound, followed by the couch. Darcy stood in the center of the living room, her formerly perfectly fitted pajamas now far too small, the little neck tight around the older girl’s neck, and the pants several inches too short. “I think something’s wrong.”

“I agree,” a ripping sound came from behind him. Bucky turned to see Loki pulling the remains of his sleep shirt off. “I think we got bigger.”

“Help me,” Darcy cried, a fat tear running down the girl’s, who now looked about eight, cheek. Her fingers dug into the neck of the shirt. “I need out of this shirt, it's too tight.”

“Sit tight, princess,” Bucky turned towards the bookshelf and reached behind it, pulling a long thin knife from where it had been mounted. He kneeled down infront of the girl, letting her see the wicked knife. “Stay still,” Darcy squeezed her eyes shut as the soldier carefully slid the blade between her skin and the tight cotton fabric, careful to only cut the shirt away from her neck. The cotton parted easily under the blade, giving the girl room to breath again, the skin around the base of her throat bright red where it had constricted around her. “Better.”

“Thanks, Uncle Bucky,” the little girl nodded. “What’s wrong with us?”

“I don’t know,” he looked up at Clint, where the archer had followed him into the living room, his eyes on Loki, who was also still in his pajama pants, the fabric tight around his older body. “Looks like you got older.”

“Yeah,” Clint rubbed his hand through his hair and sunk back onto the couch. “Like all at once. We gotta call Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any questions about Russian translations, please direct to your local Google Box... for that is where they came from.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been reading and commenting, your comments make my day.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave your thoughts and comments in the box below. Thank you.


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